A Rurouni's Guide to Idiocy
by RurouniGochan
Summary: The journey from hitokiri to rurouni a mentally angstbusting change. ...Normally. The Oro, the dono suffix, the Sessha... It all had to come from somewhere or rather, someone. A lighter look at how The Rurouni came to be.
1. Who WAS that drunken fool?

Disclaimer: Rurouni Kenshin is not mine, hence why I am NOT rolling in a large pile of money. Darn.

**A Rurouni's Guide to Idiocy**

Chapter 1

_It's going to be one of those days, was the thought of Himura Kenshin as five men surrounded him. _

It'd only been a year since the end of the Bakumatsu, so he couldn't say he was surprised to still be running into old enemies or having a few people identify him as the Battousai. He could say, however, that it was beginning to get _really_ annoying. 

The morning had started out peaceful enough, and he'd headed out early to end up in town before breakfast. It'd been a long time since he'd last had something cooked for him so he was looking forward to a well-prepared meal. However it seemed his arrival was also being looked forward to by a well-prepared ambush. 

They weren't even former Shinsengumi members or the revenge-seeking relatives of past-victims he was used to; just some group of radicals who thought that having the head of the Battousai would instantly bring all of Japan to their feet. Well, if they wanted his head, they'd have to come and get it first.

Himura clutched the hilt of his sakabatou. It had taken him nearly the entire year since he'd gotten the reverse-blade to adapt the Hiten Mitsurugi style to it. While he wasn't a master yet, the first charging swordsman's stance could be taken down with his left hand alone. Himura neither smirked confidently nor sighed from boredom at this fact, but rather simply prepared himself to fight honorably and defeat them faster than it took a person to hiccup.

…That is until somebody actually hiccupped and ruined that idea.

"SHTOP IN DA NAME OF THE LAW DE GOZARU!!!" followed the hiccup along with a giddy chuckle. "I've alwaysh wanted t' say dat."

All bodies stopped, all heads turned, and all eyes fell upon the form of a tall, graying, middle-aged man. He was wearing a sword on his belt, a mustache-topped grin on his drunk-red face, and a gray hakama and orange gi that made the other men there wonder why the Fashion Police hadn't arrested him yet. 

"You men!" the stranger cried in a slurred address to the thugs while putting a hand on his sword. "I don't approve of what yer doing 'ere, de gozaru! Now leave quietly or else…" 

For an instant his eyes flashed dangerously and took on the appearance of a very sober and very angry hitokiri. For an instant he looked forbidding and deadly. And for an instant, the rebels felt an icy chill run down their spines, similar to the kind felt after having awoken a demon beast from its ageless sleep…

…And then the instant passed like bad gas when he forgot to pop the blade and ended up threatening them with a scabbard that had a hilt. _(A.N. - For strong swordsman, this is equivalent to the danger of someone trying to bludgeon you with a Nerf bat.)_

"Oro?" the mysterious stranger said absently.

To Himura, the man was an idiot. To the rebels, the man was… well, an idiot; but an idiot who could witness and therefore needed to be exposed of. 

"Anou… You guysh wouldn't consider givin' up anyway, would ya?"

And the sooner the better.

" Youe," the leader of the group barked to one of his men. "Kill the drunk, and quickly. We still need to get back to the real matters at hand." He sneered at the Battousai.

Himura scowled while setting his feet further apart, ready to spring. Idiot or no, he couldn't let any innocent people be killed on his part. However, with a few men and quite a bit of distance still in-between him and the would-be-rescued-drunk, he wondered it he would make it on time. Hopefully that stranger knew enough about swords to defend himself just long enough for him to tear his way through. …Then again, he _had_ forgotten to unsheathe the thing.

_It must be Monday_, he decided. _It would just figure this to be how I start off my week._

"Sho I guess that's a no?" the idiot asked as the man named Youe approached him with his katana fully brandished.

"Yes," his assailant grinned devilishly.

The drunk blinked. "Yesh you shurrender?"

The rebel blinked. "No!"

"Then why'd ya jusht shay yes?!"

"I was agreeing!"

"To shurender."

"No! I was agreeing that I would _not_ be surrendering!"

"Who ashked that?!"

"You did!!" the thug yelled, frustrated by the whole nonsense.

"Stop playing around!" their commander shouted. "Just get rid of the bum already!"

In full agreement, Youe charged. "DIE!" he recommended before taking his own advice and falling at the feet of the stranger. Well, he hadn't quite taken all of his own advice seeing as to how he was still breathing, but he was certainly dead to the world which was just as good at that point. 

Everyone stared-which was only the natural reaction considering what they'd just witnessed. The elder samurai, (and there was no doubt now that he _was_ a samurai) had taken down his opponent in one fell swoop that hadn't appeared to take much strength or effort. Apparently Mr. Clumsy-Fool-Drunk was also Mr. Who's-Your-Daddy in disguise. 

"Sumanu," the aged man said to his beaten foe, all alcoholic influence gone from his voice. "However, I cannot let you or your friends harm innocents." With that he turned towards the remaining gang and slowly drew the blade from its sheath. "Now you have to ask yourself one question," he told them. "Do I feel lucky, de gozaru ka?" His sword reflected the glinting promise of death in his eyes. "Well, do ya…Punk-donos?"

Apparently they did.

The remaining four leaped into action with the grace, speed, and precision of a pack of hungry tigers. And then the remaining four fell in defeat with the dignity, honor, and pride of a burlap sack of potatoes. Potatoes don't bleed. Approvingly, neither did the rebels expect the one with a broken nose (those always bleed.) Himura noticed with satisfaction that the swordsman had flipped his blade to take out his enemies.

"Showing mercy to the likes of these," the elder muttered while putting away his weapon. "I'm getting too soft." The two faced each other. "Daijoubu ka?"

"Aa," the younger replied. "I appreciate you assistance… eto…"

"Obaga," he supplied, stepping closer with a warm smile on his face. It seemed he was done with the drunk act (it _had_ to have been an act in order for him to have shaken it off so quickly.) "Obaga Nuhiro. I am a simple wandering samurai, de gozaru."

"Arigatou Obaga-san," Himura said, not giving his own name even though it was customary. He had a private rule with himself to never give out his identity unless asked for it. Besides, despite having just been "rescued" by this stranger, there was something in his smile that made his nerves edgy. His smile, while inviting, seemed… _too_ inviting, if that was possible. In fact it almost seemed…

"It was my pleasure to assist such a lovely face."

…Lecherous.

"Ex-_cuse_ me?" 

"Now now, don't be shy," Nuhiro cooed oily. "I _did_ save you after all."

The Battousai stepped backwards, only a single year of training and one very bad memory keeping him from removing this man's head with a battojutsu stroke.

"I think you have the wrong person…"

"So what's a pretty little thing like you doing wandering the streets alone this early in the morning?" Leer; yes that was _definitely_ a leer. "On your way to meet somebody or maybe just… looking for the right company?"

_Must… not… break… non-killing vow!!_

"I really think you're making a mistake, Obaga-san." _One that just might cause you your life if we're both not careful…_

A rattling noise caught the older man's attention and he looked down to see it was a sword that the redhead was clutching in a white-knuckled grip.

"You carry a sword?" he asked, sounding surprised. "Interesting. You don't really see many… ladies… carrying……" Gaze drawn to the opening in his company's gi, which it often was but only under certain reasons, Obaga began to see that there was something wrong with his statement. To confirm, he reached out and patted the chest area. Flat.

On the plus side (at least to Obaga) this meant that his eyesight wasn't failing him _entirely_ in his old age yet. On the down side…

"Anou… _What_ do you think you're doing?" Himura inquired evenly, amber eyes leveled and unamused.

"Cripes!!" Obaga cried loudly, five yards of distance having suddenly grown in-between them. "She's a he-she! He's a she-he!! I mean it's a… you're a…a…!" He shook his head vigorously in obvious disgust. "Kami, I _really_ need a drink, de gozaru yo."

_Oh_, Himura could only think to himself. _It's going to be one of THOSE days._

-----------

Himura hadn't seen sake disappear that fast since he living with his shisho. Nuhiro had emptied five bottles throughout the course of breakfast and was working on his sixth. Without bothering to even wonder how he bellied it without anything solid to eat, Himura set down his chopsticks next to his emptied dishes and decided to start some small talk because Nuhiro's drunken rambling was getting annoying. Unfortunately, conversational skills weren't in the job description of a hitokiri, so he had little experience in trying to strike up an intellectual engagement. …Not that Nuhiro looked like he was up to _anything_ intellectual…

Clearing his throat, Himura decided to start with some basic facts.

"I am _not_ paying for all of those," was the first one. Glancing between the sake bottles and his company, he pointed out, "I said I'd buy you _a_ drink, not the entire bar. Although I don't even know how you managed talking me into one…"

"Aww c'm on, be a pal," the elder slurred, the alcohol having made his disposition chummy again. He reached over to pull Himura into a friendly one-handed hug. "I shaved you, rememba?"

The red haired man quickly pulled away, not wanting anything "chummy" from his man. "You also thought I was a woman," he growled.

"Oro! Thatsh not my fault de g'zaru! Yer so femmy-lookin' and tiny!"

"Again, _NOT_ paying for those."

"At leasht have a drink yerself!" Obaga insisted, pouring a cup. 

Himura frowned, an old memory and lecture bittering his taste. "I don't like sake," he said firmly, but was handed the small saucer despite it.

"What kinda shamurai doesn't like sake?!" he asked incredulously. "No shwordsman I know doesn't like ta get drunk de g'zaru!" He then leaned over in a conspiracy manner. "Unlesh I was right in th' first place and yer not a swords-MAN."

Oh how Himura longed for his old katana.

"I'll be paying for my tab and your _one_ drink now, Obaga-san," Kenshin evenly replied, using every fabric of his will to not create public violence. Having been a _secret_ assassin for so long did have its benefits in means of self-control.

"Matte, matte de g'zaru yo!" Nuhiro spluttered, waving his hands about frantically and coaxing his new paycheck to stay. "At leasht have one drink! I'll even pay fer it!" As if to prove he was capable of making good on his claim, the mustached man placed enough sen on the table for the beverage.

"You'd better save that for your own bill," Himura suggested.

"C'me on buddy," Nuhiro pleaded. "Itsh ma way of apologizin' fer thinkin' you was a girl, 'kay?" The youth scowled, not liking that particular reminiscing moment. "'Sides, I shaved you, remem-"

"I was perfectly capable of handling that situation myself, thank-you very much," the Ishin Shinshi interrupted, growing tired of this drunk's antics. "I appreciate your good intentions but believe me, they were not needed. If you'd known why those men were truly after me, then perhaps you'd understand why I could have easily-"

"You are the Hitokiri Battousai of god-like speed."

Himura blinked and stared at the elder man. Nuhiro's eyes were suddenly clear of their alcoholic glaze and his speech was once again coherent and sharp. It was as though he had never been intoxicated in the first place. The former hitokiri's eyes narrowed as his senses jumped into alert. It was clear this older samurai knew who he was and was also not entirely what he appeared to be. Just by looking at him, Himura could tell by the distant and stony look in Nuhiro's eyes that he was a man that had many secrets.

And he could also tell by looking at Nuhiro's face green and cheeks swell that he was a man that had drank too much.

A bead of sweat rolled down Himura's face as Oabaga excused himself as politely as a man on the verge of vomiting could and ran off to find the nearest empty bucket. Sighing, the red haired man prepared to collect his things and leave his payment when his gaze fell upon the cup of sake still sitting before him.

_If the sake tastes bitter, there is something amiss in your soul._

It had been over a year since rice wine had touched his lips. Perhaps now…

Hesitantly, Himura lifted the cup to his lips… And drank.

…Bitter.

Frowning in disappointment, Himura quickly placed the empty saucer to the side as the waitress walked up with the bill. Looking it over, his eyes widened and he caught the woman's attention to ask if there had been a mistake. Checking the slip, she assured him it was correct.

"I'm only paying for one of the sake bottles," he explained calmly.

The waitress looked a bit distressed at this but informed him, "But that man who just walked out said that you would be picking up the entire tab." 

_Oh… no… he did NOT._

"Is he still out there?" the swordsman asked, trying not to sound as murderous as he felt.

"No, I'm afraid he left quite quickly. Anou… Are you able to pay or not, Sir?"

Fishing out the extra coins, Himura's thoughts turned dark. Obaga Nuhiro was a dead man who was about to learn a very important and painful lesson.

_Nobody_ leaves the Battousai with the check.

End chapter one.

Author's Notes:

Oh, I am gonna have so much fun writting _this._

My current ride for humorous Kenshin fics have been heavily inspired by Anna-neko and Bao Blossom. I _love_ their Kenshin fics. If you haven't read them and you liked this, I can garentee you'll enjoy theirs.

Okay, about some of the grammar. I am aware that I'm most likely not using "de gozaru" right in most cases (ex: "Do you feel lucky de gozaru ka?") and I _know_ that "Punk-donos" is certainly grammacally incorrect, but hey, lighten up. I'm mostly using it for humor here. It's almost _supposed_ to be wrong just so you laugh (hopefully). So please excuse the bad usage along witht he OOC, okay? 

So how'd I do for my first entrance into the fanfiction.net world? R&R are greatly welcome! Thanks for reading this far in the first place!


	2. Joining the Ranks

Disclaimer: I'm sure I'm not the first to say this, but I speak along with the legions of other fans when I say, "I do not own Rurouni Kenshin, I just WISH I did."

**A Rurouni's Guide to Idiocy**

Chapter Two

It was not hard to find the culprit. Being a perceptive man and keen observer, Himura had already deducted quite a few many things about Obaga Nuhiro during their brief encounter. First and foremost, the man was obviously someone who could contest his own master in a sake-drinking contest. Second, he was a freeloader and probably looking for the next sucker. Third, he was a womanizer; Himura was very sure of that.

These habits helped determine the part of town he'd be in as well as specific places. So a few of questions and of the less-classy streets later, the Battousai made visual with his soon-to-be Dou-Ryu-Sen victim. Not surprisingly the old man was trying to impress some… er, "working" young women. Even more unsurprising, he was drunk again...supposedly. 

"Sho there I was!" he spoke, his words sloppily running together. "Fifteen men shurrounding me on all shides! An' they're all like, 'Move ya bum!' An' then I'm all like, 'Bite me de gozaru.' And then they-"

"Obaga Nuhiro."

The name wasn't said very loudly, but the venom that dripped from those two words spoke volumes. Too bad Nuhiro was too intoxicated to pick that up.

"Oh, itsh my new friend de g'zaru!" he cried happily, welcoming the deadly assassin over with a casual wave. "Hey girlsh, I wantcha ta meet a good drinking buddy o' mine!" Himura made no movement to step closer to them but the alcoholic apparently had other ideas. 

Trotting over to him carelessly, Nuhiro draped an arm (that would have been missing if it weren't for the witnesses) around the smaller man's shoulders, forcing him to step closer to the ladies. "I'd like ya ta meet my pal, Battousai-dono!"

Himura didn't immediately shove Nuhiro away because he was too busy blinking. Battousai-dono? That had to have been the most… backwards title he'd ever been called. Aw gee, he had a name to fit along with his sword now. Wonderful.

Their female company giggled, bringing him back to reality. Then he realized that reality still had him under the arm of the one man he did not want to be close to and hastily pushed him away in a flush of embarrassed anger. 

"I am not one of your 'pals!'" the redhead scowled, wishing the women weren't there so he could get on with his cool pre-smack down speech. Well, it did need some tweaking. So far it sounded something like, "Hello, my name is Himura Battousai. You left me with the check. Prepare to die."

"He's shy 'cause he looksh like a gurl de gozaru," Nuhiro explained in a whisper loud enough to defeat its purpose. "But don' worry, he'z not ash pretty ash you two." The girls tittered again while Nuhiro soaked in the attention. Himura gave the samurai his best hitokiri glare but the man's eyes were already preoccupied with their job of ogling. 

"Obaga," the sakabatou swordsman growled, his patience growing thinner by the minute. "I'd wish to speak with you privately." He actually just wished to beat him senseless privately, but the women folk shouldn't have to know that.

"Shay Battousai-dono," Nuhiro said, wrapping a girl under each arm. Himura winced a fraction, not comfortable with how casually this man was throwing around his name. "Whadda ya shay we go have some fun today?" Each woman took their turn giving each man a seductive grin and open invitation.

"I'd rather not," he replied evenly, causing everyone there to frown in disappointment. 

"Besides, you'd probably just leave me to pay the bill again."

"Oh! Ish dat what yer so upshet about de gozaru ka? I was wonderin' why ya looked like you had yer wakizashi stuck up yet butt." Nuhiro studied him for a bit and noticed that Himura's short sword was indeed missing. "Oi, ya don't really have it shtuck there, do ya?"

A test. This all had to be a test. Yes, that's it. If he could manage to keep himself from murdering this man, then he was sure to never kill again! 

"Shorry ladies," Oabaga said, suddenly not looking as interested in their… business as he had a moment before. "I promish ta visit cha back at the teahouse later though, okay?" 

They pouted prettily in protest, but to Himura's surprise, Nuhiro declined again and gentle shooed them on their way. Figuring the man had finally understood his seriousness, the battousai waited until the sour murmurs of the women were gone before propping his sword out in a ready gesture. Curiously enough, Nuhiro made no movement towards a battle stance. Instead, his gaze seemed drawn further down the street behind him.

"Don't look now, Battousai-dono," Nuhiro spoke evenly. "But it seems we have company de gozaru."

All at once Himura suddenly picked up the presences coming from behind and turned around only to find himself completely surrounded.

-----------

It was not hard to find the Battousai. Being slower-witted men who hardly ever saw importance in anything beyond their own ego, they had still manage to grasp quite a few things about the legendary hitokiri during their brief encounter. First, the man was obviously someone who could contest his beauty with that of a geisha. Second, he had flaming red hair and a cross-shaped scar on his left cheek. Third, he was dirt poor; one look at his clothes and they were sure of it.

These characteristics helped determine the part of town he'd be in as well as specific places (namely the cheap inns). So a few questions and less-classy streets later, the rebels made visual with their soon-to-be-massively-assaulted prey. As a bonus, the drunk samurai who had beaten them earlier was there too. Two birds with one stone it seemed.

Himura took the liberty of starting off the acquaintances. "You again," he stated simply. (As was mentioned before, people skills just weren't in the hitokiri job requirements.)

"You got off easy, but don't think it'll happen again! We'll get you for sure this time, Battousai!" their leader proclaimed, giving the redhead an awful premonition that that would not be the last time he heart that sentence.

"I think we should have had the police collect them afterwards instead of just leaving them unconscious in the middle of the street de gozaru," Nuhiro commented lightly, stepping up behind Himura. 

Kenshin spared a glare at him from the corner of his eye. "You think?"

"Hey, don't get touchy with me. You didn't think of it either at the time, Smarty-dono."

"You're over-killing the 'dono' bit, aren't you?"

"I 'dono,' what do you think?" Nuhiro laughed at his own joke until small tears formed him the corners of his eyes. "Hoo, that was a good one de gozaru."

"…Give me strength, Tomoe…"

"You talkin' to someone Battousai-dono?"

"AHEM." The two men looked back at their situation to find it had not changed but rather had grown impatient. "If you two are done exchanging final farewells, we'd like to get on with killing you now," the leader drawled. "So if you're finished…?" They nodded in acknowledgement. "Great." He turned towards his small legion. "ATTACK!!!"

"Oro!" Himura heard Obaga exclaim before they had to engage in combat. "Can't we all just get along de gozaru ka?!"

The rebels were swift, fierce and raging. Himura, however, was swifter, fiercer and raging-er…? …Um, that is to say, he was having a much worse day than they were.

Sakabatou streaking through the air, his opponents hardly stood much chance against his level. However, unlike a katana, enemies had a much better chance of getting back up again after being hit with a reverse-blade. Being the tenacious devils they were, many of them did just that causing Himura to frown. While he was perfectly aware his sword couldn't kill anyone normally, a year still wasn't enough time to get him used to his foes repeatedly "rising from the dead." 

This could prove to be quite a nuisance…

The ex-hitokiri looked over to see how his "new friend" was doing. Not that he wanted to keep the man from tasting a little "just desserts," but because despite the trouble he'd caused, Himura still didn't desire to see the old samurai get killed. However, that didn't seem to be a problem he needed to worry about…

"Whose house is this de gozaru ka?!" was Nuhiro's most unusual battle cry as he creamed through a charging opponent. Actually… he was creaming through many of his opponents. This wouldn't have been so unusual to Kenshin if he didn't notice that Nuhiro had flipped his blade again. Before-when Nuhiro had thought he was a woman (*cough, cough*)-he could understand the desire to not shed blood out of respect for the innocent eyes of a lady. But now there were no females around to witness any killing (should there be any), yet Obaga was still holding himself back from slaying them. It wasn't that Himura disapproved, but…Why?

The battle did not last very long. Even dogs learn not to mess with skunks after being sprayed enough; so did the radicals learn to not mess with these men after being bruised numerously. And those who did not learn were too unconscious to care.

"They'll probably only come back with more," Himura muttered, watching a few fleeing figures disappear into the street's various alleyways. "I should leave town as soon as possible."

"Oro? Why's that?"

Himura looked over to find the graying swordsman sheathing his sword that was clean from blood. That reminded him…

"Obaga-san, why did you refrain yourself from killing them?" he inquired curiously. "It would have been much easier to slay them, don't you think?"

The samurai smiled harmlessly. "You make it sound like that's bad de gozaru."

"Not bad, just…" What was the right word? "…inconvenient." Aurg! Baka, that wasn't it! You should've tried reading some of those books you slept against at some point!

Nuhiro chuckled amicably in spite of the answer. "Well let's just say I was inspired by you, Battousai-dono. I must say it was very surprising to see such a legendary hitokiri as yourself carrying around a… sword like yours."

Himura cast his gaze down at his blade which was also clean of blood; yet another thing he wasn't entirely used to… but grateful for. As long as there was no blood, that meant he'd kept his promise for one more battle; for one more day. …Now for the next one.

Sheathing his sakabatou in a swift and fluid motion, he tucked it securely into his belt. "In gratitude for your continual assistance Obaga-san, I shall forgive your earlier trespass."

"You mean when I thought you were a woman? Yeesh, you should drop that already de gozaru yo." Himura ground his teeth as his "things-that-suck-today" list had yet another addition. If there was much more of that...

"I did drop that," he grumbled. "I was talking about your irresponsibility back at the restaurant."

"Aa," Nuhiro nodded. "I did drink a bit too much, I suppose. Still, isn't that a strange thing to be forgiving me for?"

"KAMI, WHAT KIND FO IDIOT ARE YOU?!" Himura finally bellowed. Oh well, one can only be calm and patient for so long. Surprisingly though, Nuhiro merely grinned at the outburst and looked quite pleased with himself.

"Would you really like to know?"

The younger man blinked. "…Eh?" was all he could think to respond with.

"You know Battousai-dono, I have a feeling that you don't… 'blend in' easily."

As though to mock him, his flaming red bangs waved lazily in front of his violet eyes and accented his scarred left cheek. "Gee, how'd you guess?"

Nuhiro shrugged. "Just a hunch de gozaru."

"You're point being?"

"While you may never be able to blend in, I could help you become… unnoticeable in other ways."

Himura raised an eyebrow suspiciously. "Meaning what?"

"Avoiding troublesome things like this," Nuhiro replied, gesturing to the broken rabble littering the ground. "I'm going to only guess that being the Hitokiri Battousai brings you a lot of unnecessary battles despite the war being over de gozaru."

Hoo boy, did it ever. Was it a crime to wish to have a little peace and quiet? Heaven knows he found trouble often enough. Did it really have to come looking for him?

But what was this Obaga was telling him? That he could become more "unnoticeable?" That would certainly be nice. He didn't have anything personal against his brilliant red hair (it was quite "bishie" in his own opinion), but it had helped cause him trouble more than once. With such distinguishing features as his, it really was a wonder he'd managed to even remain the Imperialists' secret weapon for so long. Still…

"Exactly how do plan to make me 'unnoticeable,' Obaga?"

Nuhiro waggled a finger in the air while peering at Himura through a paused wink. "Sore wa himitsu desu de gozaru," he replied mysteriously.

Himura could only stare for a while as he was unable to shake off a strange sudden feeling that someone should be popping up out of nowhere right about now and protesting, "That's my gimmick!" However, after a few minutes of that not happening passed, he continued the conversation.

"What do you mean, 'a secret?' How am I supposed to even believe your capability if you won't tell me your methods?!"

"Okay, okay, so that was a bad intro of my theory de gozaru," Nuhiro said. "But I want you to agree to hear me out to the end before deciding what you want to do. Agreed?"

The younger swordsman regarded him suspiciously for a moment, caught between curiosity and doubt. Finally, he nodded in agreement. After all, it was only listening. What could that hurt?

"Great! Now tell me Battousai-dono, how do you feel about idiocy?"

Apparently Himura had forgotten how painful regret could be.

-----------

The day had warmed pleasantly as the sun now hung on its noon-high perch and the busy rippling of the riverside was still calming in its own rhythmic way while its cool waters were quite inviting. Wildlife, though mostly unseen, added its own harmonic symphony to the background as a playful breeze kept a lively game with the grass and leaves. The scene on the banks was absolutely breathtaking.

But Himura didn't know that since he wasn't anywhere near it. The only scenic view he had at that moment was one of Obaga Nuhiro kicking back his third sake cup at the vending bar they'd found a few blocks away. Himura had already informed their server that he was not paying for anything Nuhiro ordered and that he himself would not be having anything. As insurance, Himura was making sure Nuhiro put the money down for his drinks upon request. When he had become positive history wouldn't repeat itself, they continued their discussion; Nuhiro explaining as soberly as he could and Himura listening as open-mindedly as he could.

Being an ex-hitokiri that had only lived around the words "slicey" and "no slicey" didn't help that. 

"So what you're saying," Himura said in response to Nuhiro's conclusion, "is that you want to teach me how to act like an idiot?"

"Exactly!"

Himura nodded thoughtfully before tactfully gave his own humble opinion.

"That is without a doubt the most _insane_ and _moronic_ thing I have ever heard in my life!"

"Aa," Obaga sighed sadly. "That's what they all say de gozaru."

"And who exactly are 'they?'"

"……Okay, so maybe just you so far. But if I told more people this, I bet they'd say the same thing you did de gozaru."

"And with little wonder," the redhead muttered. 

"Aw come on, you're hardly giving this a chance, Battousai-dono," Nuhiro complained, looking through the pockets of his orange gi for more change.

"I would appreciate if you not use my nickname in public, Obaga-san," Himura stated quietly after seeing the ears of the vendor perk up slightly at the mentioning of it.

"Well you haven't given me yer real name, so what else can I call you? …You wouldn't happen to be feeling generous enough to loan me a few sen, would ya?"

"No," he said, answering the last question first. "I'm not even feeling generous enough to give you my name let alone money. You still owe me from before."

"Oi! You said you forgave me of that de gozaru yo!"

"Forgiven, not forgotten."

The samurai frowned. "Shouldn't those be one and the same, Hitokiri-dono?"

Himura nearly face-planted his head into the counter. Hitokiri-dono?! That was no better than before! In fact, it sounded worse!

"Yatta!" Nuhiro beamed as he spotted a coin on the ground. One glance at it and Himura figured that the coin should have been left there; dirt was about it monetary value. 

"Excuse me, Bartender-dono! What can I get for this?" He held up the dusty piece of metal.

The vendor took a glance at it, slowly raised a skeptical eyebrow, then placed half a cup of water in front of his customer and dropped in two spots of sake.

Obaga looked at the cup, shrugged carelessly, and paid for it. Himura's skull nearly met the counter again.

"I can't believe you're actually paying for that," he said, lips curled in distaste. "That's pretty pathetic."

"Do you think that makes _me_ pathetic de gozaru ka?" the other asked lightly, a friendly smile pasted on his lips.

"Lots of things make you pathetic," Himura replied dryly as he watched the man down the liquid in a single take. 

Nuhiro laughed boisterously. "You'd never think me to be a very good swordsman, ne?"

Kenshin blinked. That was… true. _Very_ true.

He had seen Obaga's handiwork twice already and even as the infamous Battousai had to admit that the elder was faster and stronger than most men he had fought during the revolution. Himura couldn't recall ever seeing the style before, but for such offensive power it was surprisingly made mostly of defensive stances. It almost seemed unfit for a real sword, yet Obaga had taken down all of his opponents with surprising grace and ease with his flipped blade. …Easier than he himself had.

Himura frowned slightly. That wasn't right. Even if he wasn't completely used to his sakabatou and the power of tenacity, it still didn't seem fair that Obaga was somehow able to put away his enemies faster. He was, after all, practically a Hiten Mitsurugi master! Obaga was… well, to be tactlessly blunt, a stupid drunk. …A stupid drunk that could kick major butt maybe, but nonetheless…

"Oi, Hitokiri-dono." Himura was startled back into reality as Nuhiro waved a hand in front of his face. "Daijoubu ka? You looked like you were caught up in some sort of long-winding internal monologue."

[/internal monologue] "I'm fine," the younger replied, still too seriously thoughtful to look embarrassed. "I was just wondering what kind of kenjutsu you use. It seemed very effective, even for a flipped sword."

"Aa. It is, actually. I noticed you seemed a bit frustrated during the battle."

Not looking over the attempt to change the subject, Himura continued, "How is it you knew how to take them down so easily with the backside of your blade? I've been training with my sakabatou for a year and still haven't quite mastered it yet. And I'm a fast learner."

Nuhiro sweated visibly. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were trying to corner me into something, Hitokiri-dono."

"Just answers," was the honest reply. "I'm curious to know just exactly who you are and what techniques you use."

At this, the wanderer smiled pleasantly. "There isn't much to tell de gozaru. Shikashi… I'll make a deal with you."

Naturally, suspicion was cast over Himura's face. "What kind of deal?"

"I'll teach you how to use your reverse-blade sword more correctly if you also train under my theory."

"You mean the 'acting like an idiot' thing?" he deadpanned. "No thanks. I think I'd like to pass on that one."

"It's the only way I'll tell you about my past de gozaru. Besides, you've already agreed that you'd wish to avoid further unnecessary combat. What's the harm in trying?"

"I thought the same thing about listening to you…" he muttered.

"Battousai."

The former hitokiri paused and looked over to see Obaga had pulled out his 'don't make me school you de gozaru' stare again and stripped away all formalities. It was one thing to not take a fool seriously; it was quite another to not solemnly listen to a fellow swordsman.

"I am not saying that you have to accept my teachings and I am not expecting anything in return other than a valiant effort. All I am doing is offering you a chance to discover a better way of living." Looking down at his sakabatou Obaga added, "A life that can help avoid bloodshed and violence."

If Himura had known what baseball was, he would've been able to say that Nuhiro had just cracked a homerun in his own psyche. 

To never kill again; that is what he'd vowed. What was he willing to sacrifice and attempt to attain that oath? What was he willing to do to keep his promise to her? To Tomoe…

…Well _that_ was a no-brainer.

"So what do you say, Battousai-dono?" Nuhiro asked, gradually slipping back into pleasantries. 

"Himura," the redhead answered.

"Hn?"

"Himura Kenshin. I would prefer it if you'd call me by my real name as long as I'll be with you."

Obaga practically beamed. "Yosh! You won't regret it Himura-dono."

_We'll see about that…_

The mustached man stood up and tucked his katana into his belt. "We'll start right away then! Before we go to the training ground however, we'll need to make a few stops on the way de gozaru."

"Stops for what?" Himura asked, rising to follow his new mentor.

Obaga gripped the collar of his eye-challenging orange gi in a proud manner. "School uniform of course!"

Himura brought himself to a dead halt. "'School… uniform?'"

"Hai! You are the first apprentice to the Obaga School of Simple-Minded Rurounis now, Himura-dono!" Both paused and let that announcement sink in. Finally Nuhiro rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Well, it's a working title de gozaru."

Kenshin continued following, trying not to think of all the good reasons he should be running away screaming right now.

  
  
End chapter two.   
  
  


Author's Notes:

Wow, I didn't think I'd get so many reviews so fast on this one! Thank-you minna! Believe me, flattery works!

_Sore wa himitsu desu_ = That is a secret.

Kudos to all of those who know who that is from! For those of you who don't, ask a Slayers fan; they'll tell ya. ^_~ 

I'll just explain right now why I'm referring to Kenshin as "Himura" throughout this fic. I'm sure most of you have guessed why already, but here's the reason anyway. It's actually just a little "authorism" I do. Whenever I'm writing fics and referring to Kenshin as the Battousai, or closer to the hitokiri part of him, I reference him as "Himura." But when he's out lovable rurouni, he'll be known mostly as "Kenshin" in the narrations. Make sense?

I shall continue to work on this fic whenever I can and get you the next chapter ASAP! Thanks for all the encouragement!

  



	3. A Gi, Some Sake, and a Bad Situation

Disclaimer: Ahem, here is a list of people who own Kenshin. *pulls out list that has the names of Watsuki-sama, Sony, Kaoru... etc.* Please notice that I am not one of them. That is all.

**A Rurouni's Guide to idiocy**

Chapter Three

Himura blinked. "'Oro?'"

Walking beside him, Obaga nodded sagely. "'Oro' and 'de gozaru.' The first step in seeming like a harmless fool is appearing so polite and docile that your enemies will think you are avoiding battle because you are weak. Only the weak would sound as though they're begging for their life from the enemy de gozaru."

"In other words, be so polite that you sound like you're kissing-up to the enemy," the younger one summed up.

"More or less," he agreed. "It should at least bring down your intimidation factor."

"Odd. I always thought that by being as intimidating as possible you scared off your foes."

"Sometimes that will work. However, the rebels like the ones we faced earlier today are a prideful and tenacious bunch. Such men as those live for a challenge. The more intimidating you try to be to them, the more their egos will become determined to crush you."

As strange and as backwards as Nuhiro's theory first appeared to be to Himura, he was gradually finding it to make more sense as detail was added. He wasn't sure if this was encouraging or just plain… weird.

"Does it always work?" he asked.

"Unfortunately no," the samurai replied. "But then you should be able to understand that not everything about a certain technique works de gozaru. But even if the enemy still attacks you, there is a good chance they have already underestimated you because of your seemingly cowardice attitude towards them. That should help you in bring them down faster."

"But it still might not work."

"Just keep in mind, Himura-dono, that it is far better to beg for your life and avoid butt-whoop, than to not beg and have to butt-whoop them all."

Himura allowed himself a ghost of a smile. Obaga said a few entertaining things once in a while.

"Ah, we're here de gozaru." The two of them stopped in front of an open fabric shop and were greeted by the owner. "So what do you think, Himura-dono? Are you more of a orange gi man like me, or perhaps something different… I'm thinking pastels de gozaru…"

Then again, Obaga said some downright disturbing things as well.

-----------

Two swordsmen stood across from one another, eyes locked in a judging stare, trying to perceive the other's first move. Tension turned the air thick and heavy and the gentle breeze warped into a dry wind as it passed. Frozen in a stand-still, one of the men, shorter and obviously younger than the other, tried to rationally converse the situation into a treaty.

Who knows what _he_ was thinking.

"I am _not_ wearing that," he stated sharply. His opponent cleared his throat and the younger bit back a long-suffering sigh. "…de gozaru yo."

"You agreed to the training."

"Hai. And I will train. Just not in… _that_."

"But Himura-dono…" Obaga held up a yellow and purple checkered gi that must've been sewn together by a blind man in order to even be rightfully existing. "Looking the part is half of the training in of itself de gozaru!" he finished.

"I'll look stupid!" Himura shouted in protest.

A pause.

"…Okay, so that was a bad example in this situation… de gozaru," he added after Nuhiro shot him an expectant frown. "But I thought we were just going for your average fool here! If I wear that, people will be think that I need someone to tie my shoes!" Nuhiro raised an eyebrow and cast a look down at the Battousai's sandals. The redhead sweat-dropped. "…Okay, so that was another bad example…"

"Maa maa, it's not that bad-looking, Himura-dono."

"Then _you_ wear it."

"…"

"…Well?"

"…It's not that bad-looking Himura-dono."

"That's what I thought."

Nuhiro sighed tiredly before looking back up with narrowed eyes. "I will resort to drastic measures if you do not cooperate, Himura-dono. You do not want to see me desperate."

Himura slid back into the battojutsu stance. "Just try and make my day de gozaru," he said.

The samurai reached into the breast folds of his own gi, obviously ready to pull out something. "I didn't want to have to use this… however, you leave me no choice."

Himura slid further into his position as Obaga took a few steps of charge before hurtling the object at him. Reflexes activated, his sakabatou was flying before his senses identified what he was striking. 

After this experience, that would never be a mistake he made again.

There was the sound of something ceramic breaking, yet the jug broke neatly in two, proof of the Battousai's excellent swordsmanship. The contents of the bottle however, were not solid enough to be split so nicely, and the gravity of momentum didn't keep them in their container. 

Sake went everywhere. …Unfortunately, Himura was occupying most of that "everywhere."

_Well that just figures_, he mentally noted.

"Oh no! Nothing gets sake out!" Obaga sympathized, coming up behind him very suddenly. "Quick, we need to get you out of those wet clothes before you catch a cold."

"Sake is warm to begin with," Himura argued, struggling to dislodge Nuhiro's firm grip on his gi. "Besides, it's practically summer! You can't catch a cold when it's this hot out!"

"You're right, it is hot de gozaru! So take of your shirt and enjoy the cool air! Then you can change into this new spare gi as we wash this dirty one!"

Himura repeatedly banged the hilt of his sword against Nuhiro's head to no effect. "I _told_ you, I'm NOT wearing that clown suit reject!!"

"You speech is too impolite de gozaru yo! It's all part of the training, Himura-dono!"

"In that case, exactly how thick _is_ you skull de gozaru ka?!" the redhead yelled, more in reference to his assault having no effect rather than Obaga's stubbornness.

"Well how about I _show_ you!"

In a swift motion that not even Himura predicted, Nuhiro head-butted the ex-hitokiri square in the jaw, sending his smaller form reeling back. Taking advantage of the opening, the older samurai tackled him to the ground and had his gi around his waist before the redhead was able to resist again.

"I'm not _doing_ it!!!" he cried, trying to free his wrists that Nuhiro had pinned above his head. Being significantly smaller than most men could be a real bugger sometimes.

"Just cooperate! It's not as bad as it seems!"

"I still have a sharp-side to my blade and I'm not afraid to use it!!"

"As if you could de gozaru…"

"Let go of me you crazy old drunk!!" Himura cried angrily, managing to bite into Nuhiro's forearm. The man yelped in pain.

Frowning down at his pupil, Obaga yelled, "I told you don't want to see me when I'm desperate, Himura-dono! Now just be a good boy and TAKE IT OFF DE GOZARU!!!"

Himura had nothing to say to that. Nuhiro had nothing to add to that. 

That's because it was right about this point that the two of them realized that they were still in public.

A small crowd had gathered at the commotion and was now staring at two men, one half naked and practically being straddled by the other in a… ahem, possibly suggestive position. It didn't help that they both had the smell of sake on them.

"Anou… It appears the situation has become compromised, Himura-dono. I suggest that we 'oro' at this point."

Funny how Himura's 'oro' sounded and felt much more like a Ryu Shou Sen.

-----------

"I agree that it was quite an embarrassing situation de gozaru," Nuhiro said as the two men walked along the river mentioned in Chapter 2; only it was close to the evening now since Nuhiro had been out-cold for the past couple of hours. "Still, I don't think that was any good reason to make an attempt on my life, Himura-dono."

"Making anyone wear this hue-challenged shirt is good reason enough to take anyone's life," his companion muttered in return, and yes, he was wearing the infamous Gi of Optical Illusion. It was the only way to get Obaga off of his case.

"You don't think it makes you look unassuming?" Nuhiro asked.

"I think that if I didn't look gay before, I certainly do now." 

"Ahem."

"…de gozaru," Himura grumbled. "…Do I have to practice that _everywhere_?"

"Of course! In fact, I even want you to start thinking with it de gozaru! And don't forget to 'oro' every now and then. 'Oro' is your all-purpose, butt-saving word in life, Himura-dono. Let it be your friend."

The Ishin Shinshi was unimpressed. "'Oro' huh."

"Just remember this. When in doubt, 'oro.'"

"Hm."

The two walked on in silence for a bit longer, each letting the facts sink in. Finally, after a moment, Himura looked up to his "master."

"Anou, Obaga-san…"

"Hai?"

"Where the heck are we going anyway?"

There was a screeching halt as bullets of sweat protruded from Nuhiro's brow. 

"Er… I forgot de gozaru."

"Nani?!"

"We just started walking that I wasn't thinking of a place to go!"

"Well we'll need a place to spend the night. …Separately," Himura supplied.

"Sou de gozaru!" the samurai said, slapping his fist into the open palm of his other hand. "We were going to go to the training ground!"

A pair of violet eyes blinked. "You actually _have_ a training ground?"

Nuhiro nodded vigorously. Striking a heroically dramatic pose, he pointed a finger off into the distance. "Yosh!" he cried enthusiastically. "TO THE BROTHEL!!"

_…Be afraid, Himura. Be VERY afraid._

End of chapter three.

  
  
  


Author's Notes:

Wow, this chapter practically wrote itself. I was surprised with how quick I got it done. Of course, I was also in such a psyched up mood to get it posted that I didn't really do a proper spell/grammar check on this chapter. ...As if I did for the others...

Nope, no pink gi this time, but don't worry, it will make its appearance later in this fic. Until then, I'm just having fun dressing up Battousai-chan in whatever I want to.

_Sou de gozaru- hopefully I used this right and it translates into something roughly like, "That right!" or "That's it!" That's what it's supposed to be anyway. ^^; _

Thank-you, thank-you, thank-you, minna!!! The reviews are overwhelmingly positive! (Which is a GREAT thing) I'm even noticing a few regulars in the commentaries. ^_^ Hehehe, a few I recognize from fanfics I've read! Thanks guys!

I don't know when or if I'll get to update again this week minna. If I don't, I've decided to do a "tentative Monday update" schedule since I can't update over the weekends and will thus be working on the story then. Well, until next chapter!

  
  



	4. And Now for some Brief Character Develop...

Disclaimer: I'll just put it plain and simple here. I do NOT own Rurouni Kenshin, nor the money to pay for the lawsuit anyone might wish to bring up against me. Hence why I'm doing the cheap and easy Disclaimer instead. Thank-you.

**A Rurouni's Guide to Idiocy**

Chapter Four

It was just after sunset when they arrived at the teahouse. Despite memories brought up by the darkness of nightfall, Himura had always felt slightly at ease in the shadows. There in their concealing folds he could remain faceless and unknown; just a stranger with no name or past… Or mistakes. While he sometimes longed to leave the cold he found there and enjoy the warmth of the sun and light, other times he felt safer in their blackened depths. 

…Especially when he was wearing an outfit that screamed, "Beat me, I'm a geek!"

Before walking up to the door, Nuhiro stopped to cast an assessment over the ex-hitokiri's appearance. At last he advised, "Smile, Himura-dono."

"Eh?" The taller of the two frowned disapprovingly down at him. "Er, I mean… oro."

"You need to smile de gozaru! Like this!" Nuhiro gave him a winning hapless grin that gave him an oblivious look to the world. "Try it!" 

Himura did. Nuhiro rubbed his jaw in an thoughtful mannerism and at last nodded. 

"Well, keep practicing," he encouraged. The redhead glared at him. "Ah-ah, none of that, Himura-dono! We'll be in the company of ladies de gozaru! …Many beautiful, young, flirtatious ladies…" Obaga drooled for a moment before carrying on. "Er, ahem. Don't go scaring them off now with your 'Hello, I'm Mr. Poker-Faced-Killer,' look that you tend to… that you have. I'm not saying you have to smile either. …In fact, just try to keep a straight face until we perfect that one. Understand?"

The comment probably should have irked or angered the Battousai, but instead, it humbled him after he realized there wasn't much argument to strike. Claiming up, he nodded silently. 

"Yosh! Let's go then!"

The two men began walking up through the gate to the entrance, the front yard of the teahouse landscaped into a quaint and lovely garden. Its presence almost gave the structure a normal "homey" feeling to it that was quite tranquil and relaxing. Really, if Himura hadn't known any better, he'd never have guessed this was a business place for getting some.

Half way down the stretch of the stone-step pathway, Nuhiro stopped him.

"Please wait right here, Himura-dono," he said as a woman appeared at the entryway to greet them. "I'm going to arrange our stay."

"'Arrange?' I thought you said this was your 'training ground.'"

"Hey, I'm a rurouni de gozaru. I wander too much to have an actual training ground."

"What the he-"

"Maa maa! Remember what I told you to use in substitute for swearing when you could de gozaru ka?"

Himura fumed silently. "What the 'oro' do you mean you don't have an actually training ground?!" 

"Don't worry!" Nuhiro assured quietly. "I have a plan de gozaru yo. Trust me!"

"..."

"…Okay, so maybe that's not the best convincing statement to use on you right now. Yeesh, you're so uptight, Himura-dono. Maybe you can learn a lesson or two from the girls here."

"Obaga!" he hissed.

"Maa maa!" Nuhiro winked at his student. "Just let me do the talking and don't approach until I tell you too, okay?"

Still seething slightly, Himura didn't find much other choice than to agree and stood by as Nuhiro made his way up the steps.

"And remember how I've told you to act!" the elder whispered loudly before approaching the geisha at the door.

As he watched the conversation, Himura suddenly wished he had learned how to read lips better during the war. However, because he'd only been an assassin and not much of a spy, such a talent wasn't called for. The young woman at the door went inside after a few words had been exchanged while Obaga waited patiently outside. Looking back to see the rurouni-trainee still waiting patiently (and a bit suspiciously), Nuhiro gave an encouraging double thumbs-up sign. It had the opposite effect however, and Himura was growing more worried by the minute.

The next minute later, another woman appeared at the door, eloquently dressed in a silk so fine and elegant that for a brief moment of curiosity, Himura wondered how they would ever afford this place. He quickly rid himself of that thought and replaced it with the hope that Obaga's "plan" was based heavily upon the word "free." Himura was _not_ swimming in cash, especially after Nuhiro's "skipping the bill" technique.

After a few gestures were made his way, the younger man began to become very curious indeed. 

From what he could tell, the woman was looking at him as though she were trying to get a better look at him while Nuhiro seemed to be imploring her gently. 

_Great_, Himura thought dryly, yet careful not to let his lack of amusement show on his face. _He's probably feeding her a story about how I'm some unfortunate, backwash-brained relative of his, and how he's trying to find a place to stay for the night and acting like the perfect gentleman to do it._

After a moment, he declined that muse. While Obaga Nuhiro was a freeloader and an idiot, he wasn't such a lowly scum that he'd take advantage of other people's compassion by lying.

-----------

"So he's your abandoned and mentally unstable nephew?" Yuiishi Nanari, the brothel's head mistress, asked Nuhiro in the conversation that Himura did not hear.

"Aa, sad but true de gozaru," the samurai nodded sorrowfully. "So please Yuiishi-dono, won't you please give these two penniless wanderers a place to stay for a few nights? While he is practically brainless, he can still do helpful things around the board."

"Hmm…" Nanari peered closely at Himura. "His face doesn't really looked like that of a moron…"

"He dresses himself, Yuiishi-dono. Now tell me, what sane man would dress like that?"

"…Point. Alright. But you'll earn your keep while you're here, understand?"

"Hai! Wakatta de gozaru!"

"Go around back. I'll be there in a few minutes to show you where you can stay."

"Domo arigatou gozaimasu, Yuiishi-dono!"

"Of course, Obaga-san. My, you're certainly the epitome of a perfect gentleman, aren't you?"

-----------

Yup, Obaga Nuhiro was a decent fellow.

…

The 'oro' he was!

_Crap_, Himura thought. _What've I gotten myself into now…… de gozaru ka._

-----------

"You'll be staying in the laundry room," Yuiishi-dono said as she led the two men towards the building after having led them through the side gate. "There's enough clothing lying around to make yourself some kind of bedding if you like. I'd offer you futons but I'm afraid they're all being… occupied at the moment."

Himura couldn't help but to blush ever so slightly at the implication. He'd never been "smooth" around that particular subject, although in the past he'd always just been able to threaten or intimidate away whomever it was embarrassing him. While he reasonably wouldn't do that to a woman let alone his hostess, he couldn't help but to feel a year of keeping his oath had made him a little soft.

"We'll manage just fine, Yuiishi-dono," Nuhiro answered since Himura had been given strict orders by him not to speak a word. Not knowing why but unable to do anything more than trust him, the ex-hitokiri had complied. "We appreciate you even bothering to give us a roof over our heads."

"Think nothing of it, Obaga-san. I couldn't very well leave you and your nephew out in the cold, could I? And under such unfortunate circumstances."

Nuhiro sweated as he felt Himura's gaze turn into an icy stare. Nudging the younger roughly, he gave him a look that said, "No scary face, remember?" Relenting, the Battousai made sure the samurai got the message that there _would_ be explanations later. It wasn't long before they arrived at a small room built into the back of the teahouse. Opening the door, the woman motioned them inside.

It was a little hard to find the floor. …It was a little hard to tell if it even existed.

Dirty clothing was heaped in piles upon piles in every corner as more of it hung from hangers and lines. Thankfully nothing stank, but the sheer mass of laundry in the room was intimidating. Himura's mind boggled at how _anyone_ could own this much clothing. …Then again, this was a house full of young females. Perhaps that wasn't such a mystery after all.

"Breakfast will be served to you in the morning, but you'll have to go to the back of the kitchen to wait for it," Yuiishi informed. Turning to Nuhiro she added, "And I will be taking up your services first thing afterwards."

"Of course, Yuiishi-dono," the samurai answered, bowing politely as she left them for the night.

"'Services?'" Himura asked.

"Just part of the training de gozaru!" the other smiled.

"Why do I have the feeling that I'm not going to like this," he muttered under his breath.

"Aw Himura-dono, you'll love it!" Obaga assured, wading his way through the sea of silks and cotton. "…Or at least you'll learn to."

"How can there be so much dirty laundry?" Himura wondered aloud, the room side-tracking him from the main subject. "Don't _women_ live here?" He began kicking aside some of the fabric to clear himself out a spot on the floor. "Kami, is _everything_ they own down here? What in the world are they wearing now?!"

Nuhiro giggled with a carnal smile.

"Do _not_ answer that," Himura scowled.

"Maa maa. Let's just get some sleep, Himura-dono. I'll explain more tomorrow de gozaru."

"One explanation had better be what you told Yuiishi-dono, _Uncle_ dear."

A bead of sweat rolled down Nuhiro's cheek. "Aa, fair enough. But in the morning."

Settling themselves in, Nuhiro had taken the head mistress' advice and made himself a bed of the cleaner articles while Himura sat himself up against a wall, propping his sakabatou up against his shoulder as he bowed his head for rest. There was silence for a while as the two could only hear the sounds of crickets in the yard, a hollow wind, and each other's breathing. Thankfully the walls were thick and distant enough from the main building that they weren't disturbed by any noises made by the teahouse's… business.

At last Nuhiro broke the silence. "How old are you, Himura-dono?"

The other briefly wondered where that question had come from before finding no harm in answering. "I'm 19 now. My birthday was a week ago."

"Sou de gozaru ka." Another pause. "…Puberty just kinda flew right past you then, ne."

The young man gritted his teeth. "Do you _wish_ for me to beat you within an inch of your life?"

"Maa maa!" the other chuckled. Less than a minute later he turned serious again. "You're still very young then, ne?"

"…I don't feel it."

"Aa."

"…What about you, Obaga-san? How old are you?"

"Too old, yet a long way to go."

"That doesn't answer my question."

A low chuckle. "I'm 46 de gozaru. And you're forgetting your politeness again."

"Sumanu. …Did you fight in the war de gozaru ka?"

"…"

"…Obaga-dono?"

"…What if I did, Himura-dono? What would you ask me then?"

"…Probably what side you fought on."

"Would it matter which way I answered?"

A longer pause.

"Iie."

Nuhiro nodded in the dark. "Then I would prefer not to tell you about my past just yet, Himura-dono. Perhaps… another time, but not tonight."

"Aa."

They lapped into a brief moment of silence that was once again eventually disrupted by the old samurai. "Can I ask you one more question, Himura-dono?"

"Hai."

He shifted himself to look over at the young swordsman. "Do you realize that sleeping like that is very bad for your back de gozaru ka?"

It's too much trouble to fall on your face while sitting like Himura was, so he didn't. "I sleep like this because it is an old habit of mine from the wars de gozaru. Can I ask you a question, Obaga-dono?"

"Fire away."

A level gaze of dark violet glared at the elder through the darkness. "Why is _your_ 'bed' made up mostly of women's undergarments?"

"Oro?" Then Nuhiro giggled with a carnal smile.

"On second thought," Himura muttered, "do _not_ answer that."

End of chapter four.

  
  
  


Author's Notes:

Sorry that this chapter didn't get to all the "training" some of you were hoping for, but perhaps a few of you can guess what it might be anyway. ^_^ And I actually have something that resembles a decent plot outlined! Gasp!

Also, I hope most of you can overlook that terrible 'oro' substitution for cursing gag. I only really did that because I don't like to swear myself, and I even have trouble letting myself write it. *sigh* Sorry if that's a little pathetic. I _tried_ to make it sound a little funny anyway. ...I might skip it in later chapters or stories though. We'll see.

Anyway, I wanted to develop a little more about Obaga, Nuhiro in that last segment, but now is not the time to give away spoilers. So his background will have to come later in another chapter. I hope no one minds too much. ^^;

As always, thanks for the awesome support! This fic WILL be finished yet! I am determined! ...It just won't be ending anytime too soon, which I hope no one minds too much either. ^_^

  
  



	5. Walking the Walk and Washing the Wash

Disclaimer: ...Okay, I've plain run out of creative ways to say this. I don't own Rurouni Kenshin or its characters. ...Nuhiro Obaga is my own creation though, so nyah.

**A Rurouni's Guide to Idiocy**

Chapter Five

Himura had always been a light sleeper. Never going longer than two hours of sleep at a time if even that much, his senses were always alert and ready even in sub-consciousness. 

…It didn't take a light sleeper however to be easily awakened by Obaga Nuhiro's lung capacity.

"OHAYOU DE GOZARU!!!" was Nuhiro's polite, ear-splitting salutation.

"RYU TSUI SEN!!" was Himura's equally quaint greeting as he came down from the ceiling he'd nearly jumped through.

"We've got to work on your people skills de gozaru," the elder advised before passing out into a 'oro-ing' broken heap on the floor.

Calming himself down and patiently waiting for his heart to stop its attempt to escape out his ribcage, Himura took stalk of his surroundings. 

Women's kimonos and undergarments met his every turn. 

While perhaps this could have been considered quite an intriguing and even fanciful situation to wake up to for some men, Himura Kenshin found it quite unsettling. Mainly because it meant that the pervious day and its experiences had _not_ been a bad dream. There went his "eating bad sushi" theory. 

With a put-upon sigh he left his swirly-eyed sensei on the floor and in search of breakfast, a single absent thought running through his mind.

_Tuesday already, huh._

----------

Rice was very interesting when you thought hard enough about it.

Tiny grains of white that stick together in convenient clumps, making it much easier to pick a bunch up at once with your chopsticks. So small and insignificant alone, yet put enough of these grains together and one could be provided with a hearty meal! Astounding really.

Yup, rice could be very interesting. …Especially when you're trying not to think about the two softly, curved bodies pressing up against you as you eat it.

They had introduced themselves as Yuki and Asuka, and he recognized them as the two young girls he'd found with Nuhiro the previous day. Apparently they'd recognized him too and were currently trying to get… "better acquainted." 

"Batousai-dono," Yuki purred. Himura remembered how he'd nearly spat out his oh-so interesting rice when that title came back to haunt him. "Is there anything else we can do for you? Anything you need? Soy sauce? Drink? …Entertainment?"

You could make musubi with rice. And sushi, and ohagi, and…

"I'm fine de gozaru," Himura answered politely, vaguely aware that his thoughts were rambling inanely. Maybe _this_ was part of the training. 

Obaga had given him a few instructions on what his behavior should be like while they were housing there. A bit oddly, Himura had only been told to be as extra polite as he could manage. It was odd because it had nothing to do with being flirting shamelessly with the women, which the former hitokiri had almost been expecting to be told. After all, most of this "training" seemed to be reflecting Nuhiro's character.

_Count your blessings_, Kenshin reminded himself.

"Are you sure?" Asuka huskily inquired. "You didn't seem so playful yesterday, but maybe you've changed your mind?"

Oh look! Pickles! He'd forgotten he had pickles!

"After all," Asuka murmured, leaning forward to give him quite a wide view. "We hardly got to tell you about any of the 'games' we have to play…"

And fish, there was fish! And two nice round, white… soft… boiled eggs! Soft-boiled eggs!

"I-I'm just fine de gozaru," Himura stammered nervously, growing more and more uncomfortable under the circumstances. He's hoped his rejection would discourage them, but his recent sputtering was taken as a breaking of will, which wasn't really the case. While still only human, Himura truly had no desire to involve himself with another woman yet, if ever. Tomoe's memory was too important in his mind to betray her so flimsily.

…But if these women didn't stop being not-so-subtle, he was going to be pulling some great and desperate escape here soon. Something along the lines of pointing and shouting, "Look, what's that?!" before bolting the other way.

...Kami that was lame, yet it was the best he could come up with. It made him wonder how in the world had he survived the Bakumatsu.

Luckily, salvation arrived just then.

"Girls!" Yuiishi reprimanded. "How many times have I told you to stop picking up the penniless bums on the streets and go out and find the men with cash to pay? Honestly, some of you have absolutely no taste or standards."

Salvation wasn't feeling particularly tactful at that moment, but Himura was in the position of Beggar, not Chooser.

Whining and pouting much as they had yesterday, the two girls, along with a few on the on-lookers, dispersed themselves to the more inner regions of the establishment. Once gone, Himura let out a relieved breath he didn't realize he'd been holding in.

"Are my girls so unappealing to you or are you truly that stupid, Himura-san?"

Startled, he blinked up at the brothel owner. "You know my name de gozaru ka?"

"Yes, you're uncle mentioned it to me yesterday," she answered, seating herself across from him as formally as any proper hostess would. "I've answered your question, now how about answering mine."

"…I am simply not seeking the company of any woman right now, Yuiishi-dono," he replied truthfully.

"I see," she said simply, not seeming surprised or offended by this remark. She studied him carefully for a moment before adding, "You're not mentally unstable are you."

It was not a question but it threw Himura off all the same. "P-pardon?!" he asked, nearly choking on his rice again.

"I didn't think so," Yuiishi continued, ignoring any evidence that indicated he might need respiratory aid. "You dress like a moron, but your eyes are too intelligent to actually be one."

"Er… thanks?" Himura responded, not sure if he should actually be insulted or not.

After a bit more study, the head mistress spoke again. "Obaga-san isn't your uncle either, is he?"

He pondered on how to answer for a moment, not sure how the truth would effect their current residential status. In the end he decided that honesty was part of Nuhiro's instructed "politness" and gave in with a sigh. "Not exactly de gozaru…" Himura watched for her reaction and was surprised he couldn't quite read it. _Psh, some Hiten Mitsurugi specialist I am._ "I can understand if you want to throw us out, Yuiishi-dono."

Nanari's head reeled back in surprise. "Throw you out?" she asked incredulously. "Why would I do such a thing?"

"Anou… because we lied to you de gozaru ka?"

"I'll live," Yuiishi bluntly answered, leaving Himura a bit miffed by her casual reproach of the matter. "While I don't appreciate being lied to, I've heard worse and for lower reasons. Giving a few homeless wanderers a place to stay for the night isn't something I can't afford. Especially when in exchange for a few favors."

"Oro?" he blinked, inwardly impressed at how easy it was to keep up his speech like this. Maybe it was just easier when you genuinely wanted to put up a good front. "What kind of favors, Yuiishi-dono?"

The woman fished around in the pockets of her elegant sleeves for a moment before coming up with a folded piece of paper. Handing it to the redhead, she smiled. "Here's the list. Get everything on it and be back before lunch. I'll have a few more things for the two of you to do when you get back." And with that she stood and left.

"…Anou…" Himura drawled, still holding the paper out in front of him, dumbfounded.

"What's this de gozaru ka?" Nuhiro asked as he made an abrupt appearance behind his young companion and snatched the parchment from his fingers. Looking it over, he nodded briefly before tucking it into his own gi.

"What was on it?" the ex-hitokiri inquired after nothing was relayed to him.

"A list de gozaru," Nuhiro replied simply, motioning to one of the girls inside the kitchen who then went off to prepare his meal.

Himura glared before remembering not to glare, and thus ended up looking as neutrally as he could at Obaga. …Which in essence was still something of a glare. _Baka hitokiri habits._

"I know it's a list," he informed.

"Then why'd you ask?"

"I want to know what kind of list it is!" he shouted. Strange how hard it is to keep a polite speech when you genuinely wanted to strangle somebody.

"Maa maa," the samurai waved. "Just the essential things a house full of women might need."

"You mean we're going shopping." Nuhiro nodded. "Why couldn't you just say that? You make the simplest things so difficult, you know."

"Well…" The mustached man grinned sheepishly pulled out the list again and this time fully unfolded it. Himura's jaw hit the ground about the same time the end of the paper did. "Sometimes the simplest things _can_ be quite difficult de gozaru."

Apparently, it was going to be another long day.

----------

Himura stared at Obaga. Not because it was fun, but because some unknown instinct that each of us possesses tells us that when verbal communication is temporarily blocked by shock, you stare. Himura had always been instinctive.

When he was done with his blank look, he spoke. "You want me to _what_?!" 

Nuhiro rolled his eyes at Himura. Again, not for entertainment purposes, but because a simple principle installed in each of us tells us that when someone asks a stupid question, you roll your eyes. Nuhiro had always been simple.

"Just trip on something and fall over a little," he repeated, gesturing out to the growing crowds in the market. "Besides looking like an idiot, you must now have the character of one. Clumsiness is a quick way to ensure nobody will take you seriously de gozaru! The basic principle of idiocy is: If you don't want to stand out and can't blend in, then become somebody that people will not acknowledge!"

"In other words, act like such a complete moron until nobody will want to be associated with you."

"Exactly!"

"I can see how that would work. I certainly wish I didn't know you right now."

"See, the principal proves itself. So whadda ya say?"

The ex-hitokiri considered this quietly and deeply.

"You're looking too serious again de gozaru."

The ex-hitokiri considered it quietly and deeply while looking as though he'd swallowed a lemon.

"Boy, we really need to work on your smile."

The ex-hitokiri thought, _"screw it de gozaru"_ and went back to just plain quietly and deeply. Finally he muttered something.

"Eh?" Nuhiro asked, leaning down closer hear.

"This is stupid," he repeated for him, having no qualm in doing so.

"At last you get it!" Obaga exclaimed happily. Then he noticed Himura's blank look. "Oh. Maybe not then. You've been doing so well, what's holding you back now de gozaru ka?"

"I'll look like a fool." Nuhiro glanced between the young man and the color-blind gi he was wearing. "…More so," the Ishin Shishi added.

"And this surprises and upsets now you because…?"

Himura sighed in irritation. He hated it when Obaga made a good point. "What do I have to do?" he at last growled in resign.

"It's very simple de gozaru! Just walk over to the vegetable stand there to go buy some daikon radishes and fall flat on your face before you get there!"

Sweat beaded Himura's brow. "…Oh gee, is _that_ all?"

"Does it sound too difficult?"

"No. …Just too humiliating."

"Himura."

Drat, he was doing it again. Dropping formalities and suddenly looking so serious that you couldn't help but to listen to him reason. Considering the fact that he was an absolute baka at all other times, it was an incredibly effective stare.

"You're not thinking about this in its entirety. Which would you rather be labeled as for the majority of your life? A harmless bumbler or the legendary Hitokiri Battousai?" His companion blinked as Nihiro continued solemnly. "You must get rid of your pride if you want to get rid of the Battousai within you, Himura. As long as you continue to exist _as_ him, you will forever _be_ him."

For a moment Kenshin could only… stare. (The fundamentals of this being explained in the first paragraph.) It just seemed so surreal to be receiving such wise words from this crazy old drunk of a swordsman.

…Then again, he'd thought his own shishou to have been something of a crazy old drunk of a swordsman, so why was he really surprised?

And that thought in of itself somehow gave him more confidence.

Without saying a word, Himura began walking towards the vegetable stand, searching for something to excuse the cause of his fall without looking like he was looking for it. Now what did he have here to work with here…

A woman selling brightly colored fabrics was distracted by her work and it would've been easy to make it look like she wasn't paying attention and caused him to trip over himself trying to step around her. That would make him look kinda polite. …Then again, Obaga was just nosy enough to probably ask him why he'd chosen to bump into a _woman_. Scratch that. 

…An errand boy was carrying some pails of water at the two ends of a pole, but if Himura made him spill them, then it would probably make him angry. Besides, the water could spill on people and thus get them all very irritated with him. Next. 

There was a carpenter carrying some wooden boards, but bumping into him might cause him to drop them and be too potentially harmful to other pedestrians. Yeesh, it was too crowed around here!

At last Himura spotted the perfect scapegoat out of the corner of his eye. Someone had left a small crate lying near the very stand he was going to be heading towards. It was perfect! No one would get hurt or angry, and he could pretend he didn't see it. Glad to soon be getting this debacle over with, the redhead made sure he was deliberately not paying attention to where he was going.

…And that's why he jumped a mile in surprise when the cat, whose tail he stepped on, yowled crossly in protest before using his calf as a scratching post.

"Itai de gozaru yo!" he yelped, hoping on his one leg that didn't look like raw beef.

"My kitty!" a small girl proclaimed. "You stepped on my kitty!"

"Su-suman-"

(*Whack*)

Having turned around to see what was happening behind him, the carpenter, in a careless move, had abruptly turned around, whacking the poor rurouni-in-training square in the nose with his boards. Himura stumbled backwards but before he could regain his balance, bumped into the water boy rather roughly. 

"Hey!" the kid cried even as the scale balance of the pole was shifted and one pail went flying up and over onto Himura's head, dousing him with water in the process. Still trying to coordinate himself while dislodging the bucket from his head, he lifted the basin from his line of vision just in time to see he was on a crash course with (you guessed it) the fabric lady. Shifting his poor balance to one side, he managed to side-step her at the last moment. …Her wares, however, were not so lucky.

His own bright gi was lost in the rest of the vibrant hues of cloth as they tangled around him, constricting his freedom of movement. Hoping around frantically, he was just managing to steady himself out when his foot caught on the original thing he was aiming for. All chances of recovery were long gone now as Himura flew over the crate and finally crashed to the ground with a mighty _THUD_ and complimentary dust cloud.

Bloodied, bruised, wet, and unable to move, the first training session of the day was complete. …It actually wasn't that different from his time he'd trained under Hiten Mitsurugi. However, practicing in total isolation had been nice. He could really go for some of that now.

Nuhiro was soon at his side, a wide grin on his face. At first Himura couldn't tell if he was proud of trying to hold back his laughter.

"That was superb, Himura-dono!" he praised in a tone only loud enough for them to hear. "I didn't realize you'd do so well! You're a natural de gozaru!"

Not sure if that was to be taken as a compliment or not, Himura thanked him kindly for his feedback with words that were more colorful than the fabrics he was entangled in.

His teacher frowned. "Ahem. Language, Himura-dono."

The Battousai gritted his teeth.

"…oro."

----------

It was quite unusual to see someone come back from a shopping trip looking dirty, bruised, and battle-worn. At least it was in 19th century Japan. After shopping malls were invented and Christianity spread, the two entities coming together for form an event entitled "Christmas Sale," it would be quite normal. But that wasn't to be for another hundred years, give or take a couple decades, thus rendering that small rant irrelevant to the story. So where were we…?

Oh yes. It was unusual to hop out of the house to grab some beef and come back looking like some beef had grabbed you. Himura, however, had exactly that kind of look. …Nuhiro wasn't far behind him in appearances either.

"Glad you made it back in time," Yuiishi greeted as the two boarders came ambling through the back gate. Actually, it looked more like two large piles of groceries and supplies on buckling legs came walking in. 

Nanari, being full of concern (that they might drop all of her things), quickly directed them to the back porch were they could carefully lay the items down. After doing so, they two men promptly laid themselves down in a heap on the grass. The head mistress took back her list and, with a helper, began to rummage through the piles, checking off each object. Half way through, she curiously lifted up a bundle of fabric.

"What's this?" she inquired. "This certainly wasn't on my list."

Both men looked up from their recovery to see what she was talking about.

"Oh, that's Himura-dono's," Obaga said with a casual wave. The redhead angrily hissed something between his teeth at the elder who ignored it completely. Yuiishi raised an eyebrow at the young swordsman.

"Interesting color for you, Himura-san," she commented, laying to the side. The young man pinked a little at the cheeks, clearly caught between embarrassment and annoyance. "I won't pay for it though," she said as the last groceries were inspected and approved. Pulling out a small purse of money, she handed it out to them. "Here, this should cover all that you spent on my requests."

"Aa," Nuhiro smiled, reaching out for the reimbursement. "Ariga-" (*smack*)

"Domo arigatou gozamasu, Yuiishi-dono," Himura replied, casually dislodging his scabbard from Obaga's teeth and replacing the proper expenses in his own empty wallet.

"What was that for?" the samurai complained. Himura scowled at him.

"I paid for everything," he replied.

"Shouldn't I still get something for helping you carry it?"

"You'd probably just spend it all on sake."

Nuhiro's features suddenly took on a dreamy look. "Saaaaaakeeeee…"

"…You're drooling de gozaru…"

"Obaga-san." Both looked up and their landlady. "Please do the chores I asked you and Himura-san to do now. I'll interrupt you when lunch is made."

"Hai, Yuiishi-dono," the graying swordsman replied as the woman walked off.

"More chores?" Himura asked. "What do we have to do now?"

"Oh, just a few small little things, Himura-dono. We'll get them done in no time de gozaru. Let's see… I'll do the wood chopping, sweeping, dusting, and dishes."

Kenshin blinked. "That seems like an awful lot for just you to do, Obaga-san. It's quite generous." His violet eyes then narrowed. "Which leads me to ask 'what's the catch?' What do _I_ do?"

Nuhiro told him.

"NANI?!"

"Oro. Is there a problem with that task de gozaru ka?"

"It's… it's…!"

"…Anou… It's what?"

Himura's shoulder slumped. "…It's nothing. It's just that…"

"Just what?"

The 19-year old ex-hitokiri crossed his arms sourly and stated quite plainly, "I don't do laundry… de gozaru."

Nuhiro grinned carelessly. "Oh you'll get it done in no time using that legendary speed of yours, Himura-dono."

"The speed of the Hiten Mitsurugi Ryuu is used only as an excellent skill of mastery swordsmanship, not for getting a dirt stain out of a kimono!"

"Then just scrub at normal speed."

"Did you _see_ how large that pile of dirty clothes was?!"

"You're young. You've got the stamina to handle it, right?"

"Well why can't I do the other things?"

"Hey, you should consider this an honor de gozaru!"

The redhead blinked. "An honor?"

Nodding sagely, his mentor replied, "Of course! Once again you are not thinking about things in their entirety, Himura-dono." 

At these familiar words, the young Ishin Shishi listened more intently, expecting Obaga to enlighten him again. …Then he decided to forget that idea after seeing a glazed, perverted looked enter the elder's eyes.

"All of that women's underwear, Himura-dono! I'm letting you wash and handle it all while I deject myself to other common duties!"

It appeared Nuhiro's skull and Himura's sakabatou were becoming fast friends with the way they kept meeting. Always greeting each other with the same amicable _Crack!_

"I'm beginning to think the only 'training' going on here is the Art of the Hentai," the younger growled.

Nuhiro might've rubbed his chin thoughtfully at this if he hadn't been so busy tending to his nose gingerly. "Hmm… Actually Himura-dono, I would not encourage you to practice voyeurism de gozaru."

"You wouldn't? Why's that?"

"Well, you're probably just young and handsome enough to pull it off!" Obaga smiled.

_Hmm, that's true. …Er, hey! Focus Himura, focus!_

"Are you telling me that you're a pervert because you know you _can't_ pull it off?" he asked.

Nuhiro pouted. "Well that's a rude way of putting it. ..But in essence, perhaps yes. I do only consider it a hobby I picked up …"

"A _hobby_? Isn't that somewhat demented?"

"At your age it's demented de gozaru. At my age, it's a hobby."

"…Uh-huh."

"Well, we'd best get to work before Yuiishi-dono really gets on our backs about slacking off here, ne?" 

Without leaving any room for argument, Nuhiro dashed off towards the side of the house where the woodpile awaited him. It was clear there was nothing more to be said about the matter. 

Again accepting his defeat with a heavily irritated sigh, Himura soon found his way to the laundry room. In an unsurprising bout of misfortune, the mass of it had not depleted but rather accumulated. With a tired groan, he rolled up his sleeves.

_The legendary Hitokiti Battousai doing laundry_, he mused to himself. _Even Tomoe would be laughing her head off at me right now…_

-----------

Red was the color of many things.

Himura Kenshin's hair was red (arguably orange). Asuka (one of the brothel girls from that morning) had a favorite silk kimono that was also red. The stains on the cloth that was held by Himura were red. And as he walked out of the back of the teahouse after having had a very informative "talk" with Yuiishi Nanari, his face was also red.

He could honestly say he'd never been more humiliated in his entire lifetime. How was he supposed to know that women had a… a… "time of the month" as Yuiishi had so delicately put it. After all, he wasn't a woman (despite all deceptive appearances). He only knew that he'd recognize blood anywhere and as far as he knew, it shouldn't be one a woman's… a woman's…

ARUG!! How in Buddah's name had Tomoe kept something like _that_ a secret from him the entire time they were living together?! 

…Then again, she had been awfully good at keeping secrets. But still…

After having found the bloodstains, Himura had gone to Yuiishi in concern that some ill treatment or even disease might be plaguing one of her girls. (He was fairly certain that the loss of virginity had _nothing_ to do with it here.) If it were the former, he felt it his duty to protect them from danger. Were it to be the latter, he still wanted to help in any way he could. (Were it the improbable, he'd just go back to his chores like it was nobody's business.)

But no, it just _had_ to be something he didn't really want to know about in the first place, didn't it?

Muttering a sting of angry 'oro's under his breath, he sat himself back down at the washtub and toss the… er, garment, back into the soapy water. As it gradually began to sink under the suds, he debated on whether or not he really wanted to touch it again let alone wash it after finding out the truth. Looking over at the pile he'd brought out to do, it didn't look like he'd made much of any progress. And this was still the tip of the iceberg! Hiten speed or no, this was a job that was going to require a lot of time.

Exhaling a long-suffering sigh, Himura decided not to fight the inevitable and began to scrub away at the cloth.

_Blood is blood, Himura_, he told himself. _You should be used to it in any form. You've seen enough of it in your lifetime, right?_

…scrub, scrub, scrub, scrub…

_Hundreds… Thousands, maybe? They all bled in your past. Your bloody past…_

…scrub, scrub, Scrub, Scrub…

_It doesn't matter what form it's in. Blood is blood. Whether it be a man's…_

…Scrub Scrub Scrub Scrub…

_…Or a woman's…_

…ScrubScrubScrubScrub…

_Your… MY bloody past… Ore no…… ...Sessha…_

…SCRUBSCRUBSCUBSCRUB…

_…Is it too much to hope? Can such a dirty past ever be…_

The cloth snapped loudly in Himura's hands.

"Clean and white!!!"

For a moment the air was completely still.

Himura had hardly realized he'd shouted that out loud. He wasn't sure if that was an end to his thoughts or the first forming of some bizarre, uncontrollable habit. And then he noticed the garment.

…The blood was completely gone. Not a trace of it anywhere. It was as though the stain had never existed in the first place. It was…

Clean and white.

For a moment, the air was completely still…

"Ah HA!"

"Gah!" Himura nearly jumped straight into the air again as his mustached sensei snuck up behind him. "Don't do that!" he shouted angrily.

"Humph," Nuhiro sniffed. "Some legendary hitokiri you must've been. Letting an old man like me sneak up on you." His lips suddenly curled up into a lecherous grin. "But it appears you are not as innocent or naïve as you claim to be, Himura-dono."

Between blinks, Himura stared up at him. "What?"

"And you chastise _me_ on being perverted de gozaru," he replied, ignoring the redhead's confusion.

"What are you talking about?" the young swordsman asked darkly.

In response, Nuhiro merely pointed to the underwear in the boy's hands. There was a moment of incomprehension before it all instantly clicked.

_Oh gods… I've just been sitting here for the past few minutes doing nothing but staring at… at…_

A round of stifled giggles erupted from the back porch of the teahouse. Terrified at what he might find there, Himura still braved himself to turn around. Sure enough, a small band of the young women were there, laughing and whispering about his situation and Nuhiro's suggestion. To make matters worse, Yuiishi stood at the head of them with a look so judging, the redhead wondered when he'd been put on trial.

"Lunch is ready now, Himura-san," the ever-polite and refined head mistress said. "If you're done with… the laundry now, you can come take a break and eat."

"You can come and take more than that if you like," one of the girls jived. Another burst of tittering broke out only to be scolded by Yuiishi who shooed the girls inside while reminding them that their line of work had a fine line of business and pleasure.

…Yeah right.

"The table is set and the feast awaits you, Himura-dono. …And I think you can take that down metaphorically as well if you know what I mean." Nuhiro indicated a few nudges and winks while Himura's face once again grew the shade of his hair.

_Where's a hole to crawl and die in when you needed it de gozaru ka?_

End chapter five.

  
  
  


Author's Notes:

_Ore_ - a blunt/vulgar and masculine way of saying "I"

_Ore no_ - the way to say "my" using _ore_

_Sessha_ - another way to say "I" but in essence means something more along the lines of "this unworthy one" 

Ah, poor Kenshin. How I torture him so. ...What? Don't give me any dirty looks. I may be the one torturing him, but who's enjoying reading about it? Ha.

...As for those of you who aren't enjoying it... um... What are you doing reading this far into the fic?

Gah. I just realized a short while ago that I've been spelling "Ishin Shishi" wrong. I've been spelling it "Ishin Shinshi." There's no "n." Baka authoress!! *sighs* Well, even though no one seemed to notice, it'll be spelled correctly here on out.

Thanks for keeping me going, minna!

  
  



	6. A Lesson With Vegetables

Disclaimer: If I owned Rurouni Kenshin, I wouldn't be buying its merchandise! I'd be wallowing in them.

**A Rurouni's Guide to Idiocy**

Chapter Six

"Enjoying yourself de gozaru ka?"

Himura glared at the samurai from his post at the washtub. Lunch had ended too quickly and the men were back at work. Nuhiro was currently keeping him company as he tended the brothel's back gardens. Frankly, Himura felt he could do without the chatter; especially when most of it was made at his expense.

"I'm just doing the chore you gave me," he muttered back, trying to put most of his attention on the garment he was washing. It was a kimono. He'd decided to wait a while before he started washing anything more… personal.

"You seem to like it though," the elder replied. "Probably more than a man should, but I've come to accept that about you."

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?!"

"In any case, I've convinced Yuiishi-dono to give us a couple of hours off this afternoon," Nuhiro said, ignoring Himura's irritation. "I'll teach you some of the sword techniques I promised you then."

Unwittingly, the young man exhaled in relief. "Finally, some real training," he muttered.

"What was that, Himura-dono?"

_Oops, was that my out-loud voice?_ "Er, that sounds great de gozaru." 

"Yosh! Next lesson starts at 2 then. Oh, hello Yuiishi-dono, Asuka-dono."

Turning around, Himura found the head mistress and one of her more vibrant girls walking out of the back kitchen area with large baskets in their hands. Although the contents could not be seen, the two men guessed that there was food packed away in them judging by the smell. 

"Going out for a picnic?" Nuhiro asked in curiosity.

"No, just visiting," their landlady replied, Asuka keeping unusually quiet and reserved beside her. The younger girl shifted her weight under her heavy load.

"Do you need any help?" Himura inquired, rising to his feet, ready to offer his assistance but Yuiishi quickly waved him off.

"No, no, Himura-san. We can manage. Please continue with the chores."

"…Yes ma'am."

The two ladies headed towards the far back gate of the gardens that was shrouded by the surrounding vegetation. In fact, it was the first time such a gate had been brought to Himura's attention. He'd hardly noticed it at all since it disappeared behind a curtain of bamboo shoots and a tall gate made up of the very same plant. The path to the door itself was barely noticeable. 

…It was almost as if it were hiding something.

A moment later, both ladies were out of sight and the only departing note they gave was the clicking sound of the gate shutting. After a pause the two men turned to look at each other.

"That was… odd de gozaru," Himura said at last.

"Indeed." Nuhiro calmly looked back at their exit. "Asuka-dono didn't flirt with either one of us once. Quite strange…"

Himura hit the ground, face-first. "Is that all you can think about?!"

Obaga blinked. "Is there anything else _to_ think about?"

"Nevermind," he muttered, taking his place again at the wash. "I have laundry to do." _There_ was a line he never thought he'd hear himself say.

"Aa," Nuhiro grinned. "I think I know what _you're_ thinking about…"

The day just kept getting longer, and longer, and longer…

-----------

Two 'o clock was nearing and Himura was hastily putting the latest batch of laundry on the line. He estimated that they should be dried by the time he came back.

Thankfully, his instructor was off sweeping some other region of the house, but as long as it wasn't bothering him, he didn't frankly care where he was. And without anyone's presence to bother him, Himura didn't mind allowing himself to step back and admire his work. 

A few extra lines had been set up, running from the roof of the back porch to the fence due to the loads being so huge. It was to this effect that half of the backyard looked like it was celebrating some sort of festival with all of the colorful cloths flapping through the air. Strangely, Himura felt quite satisfied and proud of his work. As well he should have! While it was just short of being half the done job, he had still accomplished most of it within a handful of hours! The task hadn't been as difficult as he'd first thought. At this rate, he could probably get that entire laundry room done if he worked through dinner! 

Ha! Not many men, or war veterans for that matter, could claim to have _that_ ability!

…

…And probably for very healthy and masculine reasons…

A bead of sweat appeared on Himura's brow. _Maybe I should just take the rest of the day off_, he thought.

"They look much more fascinating when they're being worn de gozaru."

Yelping in surprise, Himura spun around to find Nuhiro standing on the veranda, arms folded, head slightly bowed, and looking somewhat wise. …In a twisted, perverted way. The redhead turned red-faced as he realized he'd been staring off into space again. Unfortunately that space was being occupied by women's clothing. …Some clothing being articles that men should not see unless married.

Cripes, this just wasn't his day. …Week… Heck, he was having a bad life.

"Catch," Nuhiro called.

Himura was expecting his sakabatou to be tossed to him, hence why he caught it neatly. Himura, however, was not expecting a dikon radish to be thrown immediately afterwards, hence why it smacked him square in the face. 

"What's this de gozaru ka?" he asked bitterly after dislodging it.

"Part of the training, of course!" was the obvious answer. At least the way Nuhiro said it, it sounded like it was obvious. The former hitokiri noticed that the taller man had a bucket of other various edible plants tucked under his left arm. 

"Follow me, Himura-dono. We'll be heading for the river for this training."

"For seclusion?"

"For the water! I figure we'll wash the vegetables as long as we're using them."

Asking tended to hurt his brain too much, so Himura decided not to.

-----------

"…Anou…"

"Now, first off, the key to fighting with a dull blade is knowing not only how to strike, but where to strike de gozaru."

"…Anou…"

"You are already an excellent swordsman Himura-dono, so I don't think we'll need to worry over any basics. I think I can just give you the jist of things and you'll be fine."

"…Anou…"

"Now, before we begin, let me just clarify that since this is only our first training session, there's no need to fight full force or get all 'Hiten Mitsurugi' on me, okay? I pride myself on being a skilled swordsman, but let's not get messy here."

"…Anou…"

"Oro? You have a question Himura-dono?"

"Hai." The 19-year old stared at Obaga solemnly. And then he broke out into a hissy fit. "Why in the world are we dressed up like salad bars de gozaru ka?!"

At first, Obaga found this a very strange thing for Himura to say. Not because it didn't make some warped sense, because they did indeed have radishes strapped onto the shoulders and arms and eggplants tied around the abdomen (well, they only had two eggplants; Nuhiro was using a pair of melons). Obaga could understand _why_ Himura asked, he just wasn't sure if he knew _what_ Himura asked. According to his outside-of-fiction knowledge, he wasn't sure if salad bars were popular in Japan yet, let alone invented. Then the authoress wiped clean that thought, thus closing the random paragraph and continuing the plotline (_plotline arimasu ka?_).

"It's all part of the training, Himura-dono! Trust me!"

"…That's still not the best convincing statement to use on me."

"Yare yare. Let's just do the training. You'll understand it as we go." Nuhiro slide into a defensive stance, his katana flipped. "Now, attack me!"

Himura unsheathed his sword. "Gladly."

The swords didn't even clash. There was a parry that never quite connected and a flashing streak that did. Nuhiro went flying backwards, falling to the ground in a rather undignified crunching _splat_. Luckily his "armor" broke his fall. …Rather messily.

"Ow! My melons!" the samurai cried, unintentionally mixing his two exclamations together in the wrong type of way. "Oi, I said no excessive speed!"

"Did you?" the Ishin Shishi asked innocently. "Sumanu. I guess I forgot."

"'Forgot' my rurouni butt de gozaru yo. I have the feeling you've got a lot of pent-up anxiety in you, Himura-dono. We need to work on that too."

"So what was that supposed to teach me?" Himura asked, leading the topic back to the training on hand.

"Well it didn't quite go as planned," Nuhiro admitted sheepishly.

"Really? I didn't notice."

The old samurai stared at him sourly. "Look, this is only training de gozaru. Take it easy. Hold back."

Himura blinked. "I _did_. Immensely so."

This time Obaga blinked. "Oro? The power of that strike looked similar to the ones you were using on the rebels."

"Not really," the young swordsman defended. "I was actually trying to maim the rebels. You, just a light concussion."

"Were you this disrespectful to your last master?" Nuhiro asked.

The younger scowled in a manner that was almost childish. "He started it de gozaru."

Waving off the side subject, the mustached mentor climbed to his feet, discarding the broken melon rinds. "I think I know what one of your other problems is then. Why you were having trouble taking down your enemies."

Himura's ears perked up with an interest he tried to hide. "And what's that?"

"Well, put simply…" Obaga looked him straight in the eye. "You're too soft de gozaru yo!"

The redhead nearly choked on will it took to keep himself from face-faulting. "Too _soft_?!" he asked incredulously. "You think I'm _too soft_?!" 

That was definitely new. He, the legendary hitokiri, a heartless killer feared by the hearts and souls of other men, had been described as many things; most being horrible, wicked, and really, really nasty. 

However, out of all the adjectives that had accompanied his infamous title, "soft" just wasn't one of them!

"Hai," Nuhiro nodded solemnly, clearly not joking about the matter. "If your attacks are anything like the one you just gave me, it's no wonder they keep getting back up to fight you. You hold back too much."

This was ludicrous! He held back?! Of course he held back!! He was the Hitokiri Battousai after all. If he didn't hold back…

"If I hadn't held back, those men would have been in a much worse condition than they are now," he said aloud. "You don't need to hit someone with the sharp end of your blade to kill them, you know."

"True," his instructor agreed. "But how can you be so sure you would have if you hadn't held back?"

"Because… Because… I'm the Battousai!"

There was a pause.

"…And?" Nurhio asked.

"'And?' What do you mean 'and?' What else?"

"Well what makes you, the Battousai, so special?"

_Too many questions… Brain hurting (or was that heartburn?)… Patience thinning…._

"Have you been living under a friggin' _rock_ for the past four years de gozaru ka?!" Himura asked, strangely choosing to remember his polite speech at _that_ particular sentence. "You seemed to know me well enough when we first met. Haven't any of the things you've heard about me giving you a clue as to what I could do to others, reverse blade or no?!"

Nuhiro picked the oddest times to suddenly look all smiles and sunshine. This inopportune moment was no exception. Himura couldn't fathom what his problem was now, so he decided to ask him just such.

"You, Himura-dono," the samurai grinned, "have an ego. And it is handicapping you."

A strange, subconscious part of Himura wanted to say, "No duh de gozaru!" to the first sentence, but the part of him that was in more control allowed himself to be amazed at how clear the second line made everything.

It was not wise for a swordsman to have an ego. This he knew well enough despite his arrogance-inflated shishou having been the one to teach it to him. Having an ego made one's skills either become reckless and over-daring, or lazy and dull. In Himura's case, it was the latter. But what an odd combo!

Normally, the young man knew better than to let any pride get the better of him. As a shadow assassin, he couldn't afford getting lax, and his habitual thinking always had him reasonably confident that he was ready for anything unexpected. 

And then he'd taken a vow to never kill; a _desire_ to never kill. And without him realizing it, his pride as a swordsman and fear of taking another life somehow melded together. His past had given him the confidence that he could kill or defeat any opponent in his path. His current new way of life had him afraid that because of this power he had he might still kill, even if unintentionally. It was a risk he was unwilling to take.

Hence why he held back the way he did. Hence why he was… too soft.

Ridiculous. It was absolutely ridiculous. …Yet it was true. Every word of it.

"Judging from that soliloquy-look on your face, I think you're beginning to understand, am I right?" Nurhio inquired suddenly.

"So what do I do?" Himura asked in kind. "Not show any mercy?"

"I don't recall telling you that you should not hold back. I just said you hold back _too much_ de gozaru. You need to find a balance."

"How?"

The elder shrugged haplessly. "How the 'oro' should I know? Practice makes perfect, I suppose."

"Well then let's practice," Himura sneered evilly, tightening his grip on his sakabatou.

"Maa, maa!" Obaga said uneasily, backing away a few steps and waving his hands in the air in a disarming manner. "I still have one more piece of advice to give you!"

The younger looked at the radishes covering his upper body. "This wouldn't happen to finally be explaining the vegetables, would it?"

"Correct you are, Himura-dono! Now, hold still!"

The katana sliced through the air in a motion swift enough to impress even the Battousai. The blade stopped in less than an inch away from Himura's jugular. The two men remained still for a moment, gazing at each other with calm, critical eyes. At last the samurai spoke.

"Now, what would have happened if I'd connected, Himura-dono?"

The redhead cast a quick glance between the blade and its wielder. "Considering it's flipped, not much. You can't break the skin with the backside. The worst I'd get would probably be a bruise."

"And if it weren't flipped?"

"…Is this assuming that I don't have my mad Hiten Mitsurugi speed skills?"

"…Er, hai."

"Then I'd probably be dead."

Satisfied, Nuhiro grinned yet did not remove his blade. "Correct. However…" He took half a step forward so that the tip of the blade was no longer with the artery but past the spine. "What if my swing had come out this far? What then?"

"It's still flipped so it wouldn't decapitate. …However, the dull blade could cause more damage now because it has possible connections with the neck bone de gozaru."

"Also correct!" Nuhiro said, looking pleased. This time he withdrew the katana. "I noticed, Himura-dono, that when you fight, you still seem to be in the habit of going for vital arteries or areas that bleed quickly. While this is a quick an efficient tactic for a hitokiri to use, since it guarantees death, it is not one to be used with a blade such as the sakabatou. You cannot draw blood with a dull edge the way you could with a sharp one. Make sense?"

"Oddly, yes."

"Why 'oddly?'"

"It's always weird when _you_ make sense."

"Why's that?"

"You figure it out," he muttered beneath his breath.

"Oro?"

"Er, nothing. Please continue."

"Aa. In any case, you need to train yourself to stop going after the vitals that bleed your opponents to death. You need to aim more for the breakable areas."

"'Breakable?'"

"Bones, Himura-dono," Obaga explained, swinging his sword down and again stopping it within less than an inch of him, but this time it was above the radish on his left shoulder. "I'm going to teach you where the most vulnerable spots bone-wise and pressure point-wise are so that that backwards sword of yours can become more effective to you de gozaru!"

"Let me guess," Himura droned with small amusement. "The vegetables are aids in where to find some of these points?"

"You guessed it!"

"Why vegetables though? Why do we need them at all? I mean, not to get off on my ego or anything, but I could've understood all of this perfectly fine without them."

Nuhiro scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "Er, well, let's just say that I promised Yuiishi-dono that I'd help her chop the food for dinner tonight de gozaru."

Himura stared at him. "Everything you do has an ulterior motive, doesn't it?" 

"Oi, just because we're idiots Himura-dono, doesn't mean we can't be _efficient_ idiots."

"Touché."

On a sudden whim, Nuhiro asked if his pupil would like to make him a bet.

"What kind of bet?"

"Loser buys the sake, of course."

Himura's gaze leveled. "Women and drinking are all you can think about, aren't they?"

"Again I ask, what else is there to think about? Come on, Himura-dono, what do you say?"

The former hitokiri slid into a ready stance. "Considering I'm not going to 'hold back too much,' you've got yourself a deal de gozaru. But if I win, I get to change the gi I have to wear."

"Oro? What's wrong with the one you have on now?"

"What _isn't_?"

"Point." Nuhiro slid into his own position. "But I warn you, Himura-dono. I'm much better when I'm sober and I've been sober for far too long! I'm eager to get what I want de gozaru yo."

"Believe me," the young man growled, a feral glint in his eye. "So am I."

The air was suddenly filled with battle cries, violence, and something akin to a Japanese-rendition of a garden salad. In the end, the vegetables got the worst of it.

-----------

"I _cannot_ believe I lost de gozaru."

Beside him, the drunk laughed. "Aww come on, Himura-dono! Yer new at thish! Ya can't expect to get it right off da bat!"

"I wouldn't have lost if you hadn't cheated," the sour Ishin Shishi scowled. 

"Hey, I think I've told you once before that ya don't wanna shee me desperate! Dish is da first drink I've had in da pasht 24 hoursh! I can't remembah bein' dat shober fer that long in a long, long, long time de g'zaru!" He took another swig from his jug, then smacked his lips in satisfaction. "How come ya don't want any, Himura-dono?"

"I've told you before," the redhead answered testily, shifting the weight of the bucket of chopped vegetables in his arms. "I don't like sake."

Nuhiro shook his head in disbelief. "Yer one shtrange fellow, Himura-dono. I'd figger with a pasht like yers, you'd wanta drink. Heck, that'sh why _I_ do!"

Himura looked up, curiosity stirred by the elder's words. They reminded him of how little he still knew about this man. Perhaps if he played his cards right… "I always thought that the drunk part was part of your idiot-act, Obaga-san. What in your past turned you to drinking?"

"Dishonor," he mumbled. "Mine. The school's…"

"School?"

"Da school I trained under, Himura-dono. Didn'tcha ever wonder where I learned my sword skillsh?"

He had. In fact, he was quite interested in knowing what technique Nuhiro was taught under. He'd honestly never seen anything like it before. Such unusually aggressive defense… "What school was that, Obaga-san?"

The elder shook his head drunkenly. "No name de g'zaru."

He blinked. "It doesn't have a name?"

"No, no, no. I can't shay itsh name! I don't."

"Why not?"

The answer came in a whisper.

"Dishonor." The old man's pace slowed considerably, as though the weight of his heavy thoughts were dragging him down. "I dishonored it a long time ago. Back when I was young, proud, and full of self-righteousness. …Back when I was a real idiot, and not just pretending to be one."

"…What did you do?"

Nuhiro stopped completely, head bowed and eyes hidden underneath the shadow of his brow. Himura began to wonder if he asked something he really shouldn't have."

"…Obaga-san?"

"…I…"

"…Hai?"

"…I…"

Suddenly Nuhiro looked up with the silliest drunken grin on his face ever. "I can't rememah de g'zaru!" And with that he let out a long, hearty laugh, and continued stumbling down the road.

Himura was about to go into his usual annoyance when he realized… Nuhiro's speech hadn't slurred once just a minute ago. Not like an intoxicated man's should have. Perhaps that meant…

Himura knew better than most that everyone has their own pasts and their own secrets for their own reasons. And it was that thought that kept him from asking anything more about it as they walked the rest of the way back to the brothel.

  


End of chapter six.

  
  
  


Author's Notes:

Well, I'm semi-satisfied with this chapter. The first time around it came out sounding more serious than I thought it should be for a humor-based fic. Heck, this is the first chapter that doesn't end on a comical note! I kept going back over it, adding in more bad jokes until I was convinced that it wasn't a horrible, genre-destroying chapter. While it's not my favorite, it's necessary and "good enough for now." Maybe it'll get revised later. *shrugs*

_Anou_- this is kind of the Japanese way of saying "Um" or "Uh" (I figure I mentioned it enough in one scene that I should define it)

Okay, I will admit that I completely BS-ed my way through that whole training session, but hey, come on, who doesn't every now and then? I mean, heck, I'm a _fanfiction_ writer for cryin' out loud! BS is our specialty! Still, I hope it all didn't sound too far-fetched. Gomen to all of you who really know better and found that an absolutely ridiculous ploy. Then again, give me a break. I'm a _fanfiction_ writer!

Well, just trying to develop more of Nuhiro's character there at the end. Still more on that in future chapters though. Hope no one minds. Heck, I hope there's even someone looking forward to it, but I won't get my hopes up. ^^;

By the way, don't ask me how Obaga really defeated Himura in that fight. At first I wanted to work out a satisfying scenario, but no ideas came to mind. Correction, no _good_ ideas came to mind. So I just dropped it and am now leaving you with the reason, "because I said so." Gomen minna, but it needed to come out that way in the end. Don't worry. Kenshin gets his justice.

Arigatou for your continual support, minna!!! I hope you keep reading!

  
  



	7. Can we say Oro?

Disclaimer: I _would_ say that I own Kenshin, but I fear a certain jealous tanuki girl far more than the lawyers. ...Not by much, because they are both equally frightening, but I fear her more.

**A Rurouni's Guide to Idiocy**

Chapter Seven

Quite suddenly, something dawned on Himura. It was fresh. It was clean. It was bright. It was…

"OHAYO DE GOZARU!!!"

"RYU SHOU SEN!!!"

It was Wednesday.

-----------

Himura quickly took an evaluation of his situation. 

First off, he was in a corner of the laundry room (having gone there for another load for his daily chore), not a good place to be when you wanted to escape-which he did. Second, Asuka, the most daring girl at the brothel, was trapping him there. This might not have been so bad if it hadn't been for: Third, she looked like she was on the PMS-breaking point.

…At least that's what Himura would have guessed if Yuiishi Nanari had bothered to tell him what PMS was in his "education" yesterday. But since she hadn't, he could only say that she was "looking pissed de gozaru yo!"

And indeed she was.

At the end of his evaluation, Himura decided that his position could be described in three simple words.

I. Am. Dead. 

"Do you have any idea what this is?" Asuka growled at him, angrily shaking the brilliant red cloth she held in her hands. Himura could've sworn her eyes were turning the same color. "Well answer me!! Do you?!"

Trying not to look as frightened as he actually was and failing miserably, he answered, 

"Anou… A kimono de gozaru ka?"

"Not just any kimono," the young woman smiled in a sadistically sweet way. "This was my absolutely most favorite _silk_ kimono in the entire world! Pure silk! It was made in China!! And do you know what _this_ is?" She brought up a spot on the fabric that had been considerably frayed. Almost like someone had rubbed it against something too hard for too long… 

Oh crapper. 

"Well?!" Asuka shouted, her poison sweetness boiling over into a molten fury. "Answer me!!"

He had caused that fray, he knew it. He must've washed it too hard or something, but in any case, this wasn't going anywhere pleasant anytime soon. Whatever he said couldn't be to his favor. Himura honestly didn't know what to do, and when he came to points where he was at a total loss, his instincts fell back on his experience and training. No experience he had prepared him for this, so naturally…

"…oro?"

"I'll tell you what it is!" she yelled after his pitiful answer. "It's a ruined kimono, that's what!! A ruined _silk_ kimono!! Don't you know you have to treat silk differently than other materials?! Well, don't you?!"

"…oro."

"What am I going to do now?! It'll take _months_ for a replica or replacement to be found, bought, and then shipped!! What are you going to do about that, Himura?!"

"…Oro."

"I can hardly expect you to pay for it. You're so poor you can't even afford a tasteful gi!! Which, by the way, clashes just _awfully_ with that gray hakama. But that's not the point! The point is how my kimono is going to be replaced! Well, Himura?! What do you have to say for yourself?!"

"Oro."

"'Oro?!'" she cried with a glare that could melt iron. "Is that _all_?! JUST 'ORO?!?!'"

"…Oro…" he confirmed.

"AURG!!! I can't _believe_ Yuiishi-sama put a complete baka like _you_ in charge of the laundry! It's all _her_ fault!" Whirling around, she stormed out of the room but not without throwing a "Stupid rurouni!!" over her shoulder first.

Himura watched her go with an odd sense of amazement seeping through him. 

It had… worked. He couldn't believe it had actually _worked_! Not only did it appear to detract her anger somewhat, but he'd gotten off the _blame_ too! Incredible!

"So Himura-dono," Nuhiro said, suddenly appearing in the doorway a moment later. Obviously he had been eavesdropping. "What do you think of 'The Oro' now?"

In truth and lingering awe, the Ishin Shishi answered.

"…I think I just found my new favorite word de gozaru."

-----------

It had finally happened.

Himura didn't know exactly how to feel about the event. In a way he was greatly relieved and feeling quite fulfilled. And yet, now he was at a loss of options. He wasn't quite sure where to go now or what to do next. There was suddenly so much… freedom. He didn't know what to do with it. 

No one had prepared him for this moment, and it came upon him quite suddenly. Had anyone bothered telling him what his next choices were after this point, he might've had a clue, but no one had. He didn't know where Obaga was, so he couldn't ask him; the same thing with Yuiishi-dono. And he didn't _dare_ ask any of the young women here what he could do for them in his spare time. Still, he was probably free to do whatever he pleased for a while. After all…

The laundry was done.

Nuhiro hadn't given him anything more to do other than the laundry. It had been such a massive undertaking that the elder must've figured it was all he had to do in order to compensate his share of room and board. Himura was inclined to agree at the moment. It was strangely very satisfying to clean the stains out of something as absorbing as cloth; it even slightly appealed to his subconscious metaphorical side. However, that's not to say that it didn't leave him feeling just a little bit worn and weary. Deciding to just sit and relax for a bit, Himura took a spot on the back porch steps to admire his surroundings.

It was a beautiful June mid-afternoon. For summer weather, it wasn't as hot as he'd thought it should be for a considerably sunny day. There was still a cool temperature being carried on the wind that kept the atmosphere quite balanced and tranquil. Nuhiro had done an excellent job at keeping the ground well kept, and the brothel's humble garden was looking exceptionally fine in its simplicity. Everything about the scene appeared to have order, schedule, and rhythm. Anyone could have safely said that getting conked on the noggin with a toy ball was the last thing you would expect to happen to you in such a setting.

This is why Himura was caught off guard when just that happened.

"Oro?" he said after the afore mentioned ball had bounced off of his red-headed skull and rolled a few feet away from him, hardly aware that he had so casually let the word escape him.

For a minute or two, Himura and the ball regarded each other. Then after finding nothing particularly threatening about each other, went about their business. Himura's business just now happened to be discovering who had thrown it.

A creaking sound from across the yard caught the former hitokiri's attention, and he stood to his feet in readiness despite not having his sakabatou on hand. (You didn't need a reverse-blade sword to clean sheets, after all.) A moment of scanning the region soon drew his attention to the back gate. It was opening!

Himura wasn't sure what to feel or expect. Half of him relaxed slightly since that closed-off portion of the gardens was often visited by Yuiishi-dono and Asuka-dono; at least it was every mealtime. At first Himura had thought it only to be yesterday and at lunch, but later for supper he'd seen them head that way again. To be sure, he'd paid special watch to them at breakfast this morning and sure enough, they exited that way then. But the other half of Himura wasn't sure he should be so casual. While he'd always seen the head mistress and her head girl go in and out, he'd never seen anyone else do the same. And Yuiishi-dono and Asuka-dono had already left from their lunch hour visit a while ago…

Deciding it was best to be on defense, he kept his appearance cool while tensely awaiting whomever stepped out from behind the gate. It wasn't too long before they appeared.

Himura blinked, watching as the figure timidly poked its face out of the crack of the open door. It looked both ways before deciding it was safe enough to step through. Himura could see them more plainly now; or perhaps he should say, he could see _him_ more plainly now. 

It was a boy. Probably no older than the age of 8 judging by his height and amount of baby fat still rounding his face. He was sneaking through the shrouding bamboo in what he probably thought was a "sneaky" manner, dodging in and out of the shrubs as he made his way closer to the open yard. 

Kenshin just stood there, wondering what the boy was trying to do. If he was attempting to keep hidden, he was doing a fair job by staying the shadows. If he was trying to be quiet, well, he was doing pretty well at that too. But if he was trying to look for any signs of someone catching him… Somebody get the kid some glasses! Himura was just standing there not five feet away from the ball (which he assumed the boy was there to get), out in the open, bright red hair blowing, blaring gi… well, _blaring_, and staring quite obviously at the child. However, the young one never took notice of him.

…Until he was in mid-action of reaching out for the ball and Himura decided to say hello. Himura didn't mean to scare the kid, but upon hearing his salutation the boy froze completely. Then he slowly looked up with an expression that had Himura thinking the child would need a new set of underwear. 

"Uh… is that your ball de gozaru ka?" he asked with a smile.

"Aaaaaaaahhhhhh!!!"

"Gaaaaaahhh!" the redhead responded in similar surprise as he watched the boy suddenly turn and dash back to the gate, spluttering 'sorry' and 'please don't tell' until slamming the gate closed. 

"……I guess I really do need to work on my smile," he muttered after a moment of very confused silence. Then glancing down, he saw that the kid had still forgotten to grab the toy. 

Curiosity got the better of him and he reached down to pick it up before carefully moving towards the entry way to the closed-off section of the gardens. Even as he did so he was telling himself how this probably wasn't the smartest thing to do at this point in time.

…But then again, he _was_ training to be an idiot. The smartest thing would probably hinder his mind-state.

_Then again_, he thought as he entered. _One would need a mind for that in the first place, wouldn't they…_

----------- 

Himura had the distinct impression that he was being watched.

Having entered through the gate, he found that the bamboo trees extended on the other side as well, a single and straight, narrow path leading up to a clearing. Looking ahead, he could see that there was a small hut within that clearing. However, looking ahead did not seem to be in his best interests right now. 

His hitokiri instincts were telling him that someone or something was taking down his every movement as he slowly walked down that path. The fact that it was an embodiment that he could not see himself is what kept him on a slight edge. He really didn't feel he should be too nervous; after all, if a little boy ran in here to seek safety, what could be the real harm? If there any real danger existed, well, it would be a good time to put his new "bumbling rurouni" act to the test, wouldn't it?

It was this thought he had in mind as he took the step forward that would bring him into the clearing. It was this thought he had in mind when the tripwire went taunt and caught his foot. And it was this thought in mind that made him remember that instead of swiftly recovering his balance like the cool, smooth hitokiri he was could, he allowed himself to go crashing into the ground face-first.

"Get 'im!!" a youthful voice cried, followed by many other youthful shouts.

"Huh?!" the redhead squeaked before looking up to find a small band of about 5 or 6 children rush towards him. On an after note, he 'oro-ed.'

Himura could remember being thrown to the ground countless times before. He'd been tackled, tromped, kicked, and slammed many times during his training (_especially_ during his training) and in the war. However, this was definitely his first experience at being "dog piled."

Unsure of how to fend off a mob of kids, Himura found himself yelping helplessly as they used their advantage of numbers and his hesitance to bound and gag him. 

_The legendary Hitokiri Battousai taken out by a daycare nightmare_, he inwardly groaned. _Is an honorable death too much to ask for de gozaru ka?!_

In the end, they all seemed satisfied with their work and went about making sure he stayed on the ground. Meanwhile, Himura could hardly believe this was happening to him! He remembered Obaga telling he held back too much, but what the heck was he _supposed_ to do?! There was no freakin' way he could hit a kid! Heck, he still remembered that it was for the sake of their future that he killed in the first place!

Yeesh! You risk your life and put your very humanity on the line for the next generation and _how_ do they repay you?! By hog-tying you up and planting your face in the dirt. Honestly, children had no respect these days!

A katana drew Himura's attention. Not because it was well crafted, mind you; it was in actuality, rusted, chipped, and had obviously seen better days. However, when it landed within a few inches of his nose, it just happened to grab his notice.

Letting his gaze trail up the blade, he found the sword in the hands of a boy different from the first. This one looked older, perhaps 10, and didn't look to be frightened of him at all (then again, he hadn't smiled yet so who knew?). Although it was probably hard to be scared of someone who was at your mercy.

"Who are you?" the boy, who was obviously the eldest of them (now that Himura had looked around), demanded. "What are you doing here? What do you want?!"

The young man gladly answered each question. Unfortunately, no one could understand what "Mmmpff," meant, and frankly, it didn't look like anyone cared.

"Unauthorized men aren't allowed back here!" the 10-year old informed him, before pleasantly adding, "All strangers will be punished! Prepare him for the torture!"

"Yay!!" the band of young ones cheered in a sadistically overjoyed way. "Torture! Torture! Torture!"

Himura had the distinct impression that he was doomed.

  


End of chapter seven.

  
  
  


Author's Notes:

Sugoi, thanks for the support minna! I'm glad I'm not thought to be a total loss yet. (That's not speaking for mentality though). 

Well, I admit that I'm not really a regular updater, but this fic has just been on fire for some reason. It's practically writing itself! It just disappointed me I suppose when I finally got to the point where I wasn't barreling it out. *shrugs* Well, this chapter came out easy enough. I hope I didn't leave you off a large cliffhanger. ^^; I wasn't expecting that, but I figured that in order to introduce the next scene the way I want to, I'd like to start it on another chapter. Gomen!

Fun Fact: Most of these chapters were originally planned to be a complied collection of one-shots of Himura Kenshin on his "Wandering Years" and how he gradually over time learned the things he did and how he became a rurouni. However, as I continued writing this story, I realized that I could fit those one-shots into this one plotline! I'm happy it worked out that way too, because now I can make those stories more humorous.

Well, "Real Life" still takes its toll, but like I said, this chapter just came right out. And being excited to have another chapter done, I've posted it ASAP. =P The next one shouldn't be until next week though.

SUGOI! Over 100 reviews! I _never_ imagined my first fic on fanfiction.net would get so much attention! THANK-YOU, THANK-YOU, THANK-YOU!!! *sniffles and wipes tear* You like me! You _really_ like me!! ^__^ 

  
  



	8. Hoard of the Small Fries

Disclaimer: I don't own Rurouni Kenshin, but I borrow it from time to time.

**A Rurouni's Guide to Idiocy**

Chapter Eight

  
  


"Where's some parental supervision when you need it?" Himura moaned as he stood against a wall the kids had put him up against. 

He was still bound, but only at his wrists now, and his gag had been reformed into a blindfold. The children must've been shooting for a firing squad atmosphere (no pun intended), and were succeeding quite nicely.

"Quiet!" He recognized this voice to be of their "leader," who's name he'd yet to hear. "You're under punishment, so you can't talk!"

"Don't I need a fair trial before getting punishment?" the redhead dared to ask.

"Hmm… I guess there should be a vote cast from different points of view…"

"Thank-you."

"All in favor of bagging the girly man, say 'aye!'"

"Oro?!"

"AYE!" came a unanimous shout.

"Oh well, guess the party has found you guilty anyway. Now for the punishment!"

"That wasn't very fair…" he sulked.

"Prepare the target for the armed squad!"

So it _was_ a firing range. He suddenly wasn't sure which was worse for his health; his reputation, brothels, or children.

Despite the awful situation, Himura wasn't feeling as ill-fated as he expected himself to be. What was the worse these kids could throw at him anyway? Rocks, right? He could take rocks. Heck, he could _dodge_ rocks. …Er, well, he could dodge better if he weren't _blindfolded_, but still, his senses were honed enough that he could avoid any nasty bumps. He'd just follow their game for a while, playing the stupid-luck rurouni until he found the prefect moment to run and save his little Battousai butt.

Yup, he could do this. They were only kids after all. How much harm could they do?

And suddenly he was wet.

"Gah! What the?" he sputtered as soon as someone had finished dousing him with a few buckets of water. _Water? Why water?_

"Fire!" the 10-year old boy commanded, and Himura prepared himself for the stones.

Now, when a rock hits a person, it usually leaves a good impression (or bad, depending on your definition) along with a bruise in the morning. As far as Himura knew, stones didn't dissolve or explode in a large puff of smoke after giving you the equal damage of a light tap. Stones didn't… But dirt clods did. And Himura was soon enveloped in a cloud of dust.

This wouldn't have been so bad if it weren't for a number of tiny things.

The first that Himura realized was that with all the dirt in the air, it made it hard to breath. And it was a bit harder to dodge things blindfolded when you were coughing a fit.

The second, was that the little buggers had thought to soak him first, thus making the earth stick to him unpleasantly wherever it hit. The dirt, turned mud, clung irritably to his skin and probably wasn't doing wonders for his clothes either. …Then again, considering what he was wearing, this could be an improvement.

Lastly… lastly… Cripes, he was getting bullied by kids half his size! And considering his size, that was saying a lot. And yet still, he was unsure of how to retaliate against them.

Luckily, Salvation stepped in once again.

"CAN'T A PERSON GET ANY DECENT REST AROUND HERE?!?!?!"

All activity ceased and Himura dully noted that his salvation often tended to be quite unconcerned with his welfare. Using the distraction of the kids as an opportunity to lift his blindfold with his tied hands, Himura looked over to see a figure in the doorway of the small house; a figure with round curves, but mostly going _out_. 

With sudden realization, Himura discovered it to be a young woman. A very young, very pregnant, and very irritated woman who looked like she was a few joys short of being "just peachy." Together, it was a dangerous, possibly deadly combination, and even the children seemed to realize it judging by their lapse in silence. With a tired scowl, she turned toward the head boy.

"Futashi-kun," she all but snarled. "Exactly _what_ are you all doing out here that's making so much noise?"

The boy named Futashi pointed at the drenched and dirty redhead behind him. "Just scarring the life of some strange guy."

At this, the girl looked up at Himura, noticing him for the very first time. Chuckling self-consciously at the thought of what a sight he must be at that moment, he tried waving friendlily to her before remembering that it was hard to wave when your wrists were corded together by extra laundry line. …Which just now he realized was something of an irony.

It was only later that Himura realized he should have asked her for help. As consequence would have it though, the young woman merely raised an uninterested eyebrow at him before turning back to Futashi.

"Making a habit of this, aren't you?"

"It's something to do," the boy shrugged.

Yawning, the soon-to-be mother turned back to go inside, adding, "Try and keep it down, okay? I'm trying to get some sleep."

"Okay oneesan."

_NANI?!_ was the one word flashing through Himura's mind. Not only had his misfortune been brushed off again, but this little brat was that girl's younger brother?! Did that mean all of these kids were related to her? Exactly who were they anyway? What were they doing near a brothel? And could someone just tell him what the heck was going on?!

Himura had yet another strange and vague impression that someone should be coming over to him and welcoming him to a place called "The Twilight Zone." That feeling also quickly passed after not happening.

"Alright, that's enough of the firing squad," Futashi told the others. "Let's move him on to the dunking barrel. Help me get the femmy-man upside down and tie him by his ankles."

All at once, it was the perfect moment for Himura to run for his life.

-----------

Himura had forgotten one element of a child other than their "innocence" that made them the most difficult and dangerous foe of all. While they weren't very intimidating or even very skilled…

…They were creative little buggers.

He watched them from the roof of the small hut, the only place he'd found refuge in that clearing. They were too short to reach after him, and none of them had the capability of jumping up on their own. No ladders were in sight, and none of the four walls had anything that could aid in climbing their way up. It seemed like the safest bet and he figured he could work the ropes off his wrists as they decided what to do. …They decided a little quicker than he'd hoped.

Himura's eye bugged out as he watched them quickly go to work. Climbing atop one another's backs and shoulders, a human chain of small, young, strong bodies was soon developed, and Futashi was preparing to scale after him. 

"Kami, don't I get any friggin' _break_?!" he groaned. Then the wood beneath him groaned. Pausing to check, Himura noticed that, indeed, the lumber he was standing on was definitely bending heavily under his weight. But just before the shingles gave away completely, he added with all the sunshine of a storm cloud, "I should've known that that sentence would come back to bite me in the-" _Crack!_ "-Aaaaaaaahhhhh!!!" he began to shout. Then mid-way, thought better of it and switch to, "Ororororororooooo!!!"

(*CRASH*)

"Orororooo…" the redhead said, but not sounding half as hurt as he did frustrated. "I am not experiencing a very good life de gozaru."

"It's about to get worse," someone told him. Looking towards the doorway, Himura recognized Futashi's form in the doorway. The kid had the most forbidding aura about him despite looking like he'd just raided a candy store and got a free pony out of it. "If my sister doesn't finish you off first, I'll be sure to do the honors, Girly Man," he told the redhead before closing the doors with a sound that Himura figured Doom must sound like.

"Ahem."

Blinking, Himura turned around and found himself looking into the face of Futashi's sister. And she didn't look to happy to see him. Asuka's wrath looked to be nothing compared to what this young woman was imagining doing to him.

"Care to tell me what exactly you're doing here?" she inquired evenly.

"…Oro?" he offered in means of an introduction.

"I bet you say that to all the girls."

-----------

"Himura Kenshin de gozaru. I'm a rurouni who Yuuishi-dono is-"

"Letting stay at the teahouse for a while," the young woman finished, brushing aside some stray locks of dark brown hair that has come free from its bun. "I know. Yuiishi-sama and Asuka-chan bring the meals to us and Asuka has a tendency to gossip incisively. I've actually heard a lot about you." She cast a critical eye over him. "Although you're not quite what I imagined from her description. I didn't realize you were so short and… colorblind. Maybe it's just the fact that you're covered in dirt that's effecting my judgement."

Himura fought the urge to frown sourly, unsure if the bluntness was a woman thing or just something geishas had a habit of doing. Either way he'd certainly gotten a lot of it lately. "Sumanu," he decided to continue. "I didn't mean to intrude or trespass on your family's privacy. I was merely curious when I saw a child go through the gates de gozaru."

"That would probably be Hiroshi-kun," the woman said with a sigh, trying to prop more pillows behind her to make her more comfortable. "That boy is always playing too close to the fence despite us telling him not to. It often leads to situations like these."

Himura blinked. "You mean other men have been back here?"

"Not often, but yes, they have. Most get the same greeting you did."

"Friendly little tikes, aren't they?" he asked, trying to sound oblivious but unable to prevent a sliver of sarcasm from entering his words.

"Actually, they're very playful and kind." He stared at her dubiously to which end she shrugged casually. "They just know not to trust strangers as any well-brought up child should, that's all. You're the first one I've seen though to actually think to climb on the roof. Most just run for the gate."

"I tried that but I couldn't open the gate with my hands tied." He held up the ropes with his now free hands, having been remedying that condition during the conversation. "I didn't see any other option. …Er, by the way…" He abashedly glanced up at the hole in the roof. "I'll fix that for you de gozaru."

"I would hope so," she replied dryly. "As much as I admire the new skylight, I don't think Yuiishi-sama will take to it too well. She'll probably not be please as is that you were back here at all. This area is supposed to be prohibited from outside men."

"So I've noticed," Himura responded, nervously watching the little faces that were peering in through the windows and cracks in the doors. He was unable to stop himself from feeling like he was trapped in a cage where small demons were outside, just waiting for him to try and escape, promising untold suffering should he dare.

What a nice day to stay inside.

"Don't take it too personally, Himura-san. It's just that every woman needs her space and this is a good place for refuge. The only men allowed back here are the fathers. The one's who actually care to keep track of their offspring, that is."

"Fathers?" Himura blinked, slowly realizing. He motioned towards the various children. "You mean…"

Her brown eyes remained as level as her tone. "You honestly didn't think that in this line of business a girl doesn't get knocked up every now and then, did you?"

Himura blushed and decided that the tactlessness must be a geisha thing.

"Su-sumanu. I guess I just didn't realize… I'm sorry for trespassing de gozaru," he stuttered, bowing himself humbly before her.

"Eh, it's not the first time," she waved. "Futashi-kun is pretty good at taking care of intruders."

As if the mentioning of his name was a cue to make an appearance, Futashi slid the door open far enough to stick his head in.

"Oi, oneesan," he said. "Are you beating up this girly guy or what? I thought there would be more screams of pain and anguish and stuff."

His older sibling sighed. "Futashi-kun, do I _look_ like I'm in any condition to pummel someone? I mean, sure I helped out before I'd gotten too big, and sure this guy is frail enough to break in half-"

"Hey."

"-but do I honestly _look_ like I'm up to rearranging body parts today?"

"Gomen, I forgot how tired pregnant women get when they're so far along. I promise not to expect you to work anymore."

"Thank-you."

There was a moment of lapsing silence.

"…So can we play with him again?" Futashi asked at the end of it.

The girl shrugged. "Sure, whatever you want. Just keep it down."

"Oro!" Himura cried, hoping the word would save him again. It didn't seem to do as many wonders this time however.

"Get the Fem-Boy!" Futashi shouted as the small hoard piled into the doorway.

"NOT INSIDE!" their caretaker shouted, causing every child to halt inside the entrance. "Enough damage has been done in here so take it out!"

"…But he's inside," a young girl with chubby cheeks and chestnut eyes protested. "How can we take him outside if we can't go in to get him there?"

"He'll go out himself," the young woman stated simply. Everyone turned to Himura expectantly.

"You expect me to willingly throw myself to the mob de gozaru ka?!" he asked her incredulously.

"Yup," she replied with no hesitation.

"…You are heartless de gozaru."

"I'm pregnant and I want my nap. Now get out of here. Not only are you getting the floor dirty but you're also leaving watermarks. I suggest you go straight for the gate."

"Can I use the window?"

"Be my guest."

"Death to the Girly Man!!!"

-----------

"Good evening, Yuiishi-dono, Asuka-dono," Obaga greeted politely as the two women made their usual trek to the enclosed area at the back of their gardens. "I finished the errands you asked me to do today."

"Arigatou, Obaga-san," Yuiishi answered kindly. "I also saw that Himura-san finished the laundry. I must admit that was done much faster than I ever imagined it to be. Wouldn't you agree, Asuka-chan?"

"Humph," the brunet responded, turning her chin up hotly.

"Speaking of Himura-dono," Nuhiro continued, slightly befuddled by Asuka's strange behavior. "Have you seen him at all today? He's disappeared somewhere I'm not sure of."

"No I haven't," the head mistress replied. "But I'm sure that he'll-"

Suddenly a distant collective cry of shouts could be heard growing closer at a rapid speed. Everyone soon realized where it was coming from and a short moment later the back gate swung open with a crash, a certain redhead standing there in its wake. All blinked in surprise.

"Himura-san," Yuiishi gasped. "What are you…"

"Oro? Himura-dono?"

"What in the world are you doing back there?!" Asuka demanded.

"SANCTUARY!" Himura cried as he promptly fled into the laundry room, all the while bellowing, "Sanctuary de gozaru yo!!"

The others could only stare in a moment of silent shock. …Well, Nuhiro meekly 'oro-ed,' but otherwise it was pretty silent. 

Until the kids nearly came barging through the gate. They stopped dead when they saw Yuiishi Nanari glaring down at them however. Somehow the frown of this one woman was enough to send them scattering back towards their home. After the matter Yuiishi sighed.

"It would seem, Obaga-san," she said, turning towards the samurai, "that we have a slight situation on our hands. I will speak to you later on the matter. Until then, please do not leave the compounds."

"I understand, Yuiishi-dono," he said without really comprehending. After the two women exited through the gate, he turned to look back at where his companion had fled. He rubbed his mustache thoughtfully and mused. 

"The plot thickens de gozaru."

  


End of chapter eight.

  
  
  


Author's Notes:

Okay kiddies, Auntie Gochan has a question for you! Q: What is the worst thing that a authoress writing a Rurouni Kenshin humor fic can do?

...Well, okay, yes, I suppose that, "Getting addicted to another series" is also an answer that would fit, but not quite the one that I'm looking for. Let's put an emphasis on "Rurouni Kenshin _humor_ fic."

Yup, you guess it. The worst thing she could do is: Watch the Seissouhen OAVs!

...Unfortunately, that's just what I did. -_-;;

Yeah, I even knew myself that it was a stupid thing to do, but I couldn't help it!! It was _right there_ and my brothers were going to be watching it before I did! I could not let this happen!! ...So I watched it. I hated/loved it. And in essence, suffered from SDS (Seissouhen Depression Syndrom). Do you know how _hard_ it is to write humor when you're feeling depressed?! Pretty friggin' hard!!

...And then... Salvation!!! Without warning I got cheered up immensely when I recieved... *drumroll* My first fanfic fanart!!! *rejoices*

A BIG and AWESOME huge THANK-YOU to ~*AnimeLuva1*~ for creating it! And thanks to Shirai, this fic's Official Ever-Faithful Rabid Fangirl, for being the first to point it out to me and make a link for me to visit in the Reviews! Here's the link! Copy and past the URL to go there!

http://studio_oro.tripod.com/images/kenshin_giopticalillusion.jpg

*sniffles* It's beutiful. ^_^ And I feel so much better now, that I was able to complete this chapter. Thank you again! Oh, and go check out the site that belongs to ~*AnimeLuva1*~. Copy and paste this one too.

http://studio_oro.tripod.com 

Thanks soooooo much minna! The fic shall continue!!!

...but the rant is over. =P

  
  



	9. A Midnight Interlude

Disclaimer: If I owned Rurouni Kenshin, then I'd be rich. If I were rich, I probably wouldn't be writing fanfics. If I weren't writing fanfics, I wouldn't be having to write disclaimers like this either to prevent me from being sued because I do not own Rurouni Kenshin, hence no money either. ...Did that one make sense?

Nevermind. Just read the nice ficcy.

**A Rurouni's Guide to Idiocy**

Chapter Nine

  
  


Kids had curfews. So it was well past "bedtime" before Himura figured it was finally safe enough to creep out of the laundry room. Actually, he was debating on whether or not this would be a good time to creep away from the brothel. Yuiishi-dono would surely have his head for poking his nose where it didn't belong, and not to mention breaking the roof… 

Drat, he had said he would fix that, and he wasn't one to go back on his word. Oh well, looks like he was obligated to stay after all.

Another reason Himura had finally come out of his current residence is because Obaga had not yet come back either. The old samurai was pretty adamant about that old saying, "Early to bed, early to rise." As for the "…Makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise" part, he wasn't so sure. Being schooled "Hiten Mitsurugi" style wasn't every morning wasn't exactly healthy for the older man; wealth was something he was definitely without; and wise… No comment necessary.

It was late now and Nuhiro had still yet to show himself. Finding this unusual, the former hitokiri had gone to investigate. …Not that he was worried or anything. He had a feeling that the last person he should worry about was Obaga Nuhiro; the first person to worry about was Himura Kenshin, especially when _around_ Obaga Nuhiro. Himura's main concern at the moment was that Obaga was off fooling around again, which consequently always got _him_ in trouble for it. He didn't understand how that logic worked, but when things happen without good statistic you often just screw reason and go straight for the root of the problem.

The trouble right now was where to find it, er, him.

Himura did a swift sweeping of the grounds in complete stealth, hardly disturbing the grass he stepped on. Securing the perimeter, or at least the back perimeter since a business was still be run up front, he still could not locate his elder. The mystery didn't last however, as Obaga soon came into view.

…Unfortunately, the view was overhead, a direction Himura wasn't looking until he heard his approach that sounded a lot like, "orororororOROROROROROOOOO!!!" The redhead glanced up in time to see an orange and gray shape growing in rapid size and heading right for him. Immediately there was a large crash which Himura was _not_ caught up in because he had moved out of the way just in time to avoid becoming a Battousai-pancake. He didn't have god-like speed for nothing, after all.

"Obaga-san?" he asked.

"…oro…" the fallen figure confirmed, eyes swirling at a rapid rate. 

"What were you doing up on the roof?" was the first thing into his mind to say. …Well, actually, the first was, "I wonder if I'll ever be able to get my eyes to swirl like that…" but he didn't say it aloud. Perhaps it should also be noted at this point that the third thing that came to mind was, "Hmm, maybe I should get him some medical attention. …Nah." This also went unsaid.

"Just admiring the stars de gozaru," Nuhiro finally answered, shaking off his dizzy spell and any concerns that he might have a concussion. Looking down at his hands, he sighed in relief when he saw that the sake jug he had was still in tact. "Phew, I thought I'd heard it break when I fell. It must've just been my back. Close call, ne Himura-dono?"

His companion raised an eyebrow, half-lidded stare switching between the samurai and the alcohol in his hands. "Only admiring the stars, huh?" he asked dryly.

"Er… well, maybe with a wee bit of refreshment," the older admitted sheepishly. "It's a tradition de gozaru!"

"To get drunk on the rooftop of a brothel?!"

"…Not quite such a specific tradition." Picking himself up with an ease that indicated he had no major injuries, Obaga dusted himself off and motioned skyward. "Look up, Himura-dono. It's a very clear night tonight."

Following his instruction, the young man cast his eyes to the view above him and almost instantly lost himself in the dizzying vastness of the cosmos. Nuhiro was right, it was a very clear night, and the stars seemed to be attempting their brightest hour. It was almost like looking into a pool of no reflection; still, deep, and endless. Looking up as he did, Kenshin could have sworn that the only thing keeping him from falling into the star blanketed heavens was gravity itself. All at once he felt very small in the comparison of the universe, and realized quite suddenly that 19 was a very young an age have the reputation of a deadly assassin.

He could only imagine what the view from the roof had been like.

"On nights like this," he heard Obaga say quietly, voice thick with nostalgia, "I pay my unworthy respects to my old master. I toast him occasionally. We used to drink sake together. You see, I tend to reminisce a little too much on nights like these as well. I remember a lot of things that I forget I don't want to remember, until I remember that I want to forget them again." Himura wasn't sure he'd caught that entire last sentence, but the old samurai continued on and he felt he shouldn't interrupt. "Mostly about where I came from, and how far I've come since then, you know? …Although I still can't decide if I've gone far in life or absolutely nowhere at all. Can't decide if I'm doing the world a favor or if it even cares that I'm still around." He chuckled to himself. "I'm probably not making much sense, am I Himura-dono. Sumanu."

"Actually…" the Ishin Shishi replied carefully. "I think I might understand much better than you think…"

There was a moment of silence as they regarded each other, knowing what any further conversation would bring and yet feeling ready for it.

"I've killed many people in my lifetime," Himura continued after an unspoken signal encouraged him to. "As a hitokiri, it was my duty. I never once took any personal pleasure out of it, but I did not stop all the same. …It… dulled me, I think. My soul. After some time, killing did not seem so sinful; or perhaps I had just accepted my sins as hopeless. _I_ was hopeless. …So I gave up my guilt for a while. For a period of time, I think I became used to breathing in the cloud of blood that surrounded me.

"Then I… met someone. They began to drag me away from my cloud of blood and reminded me what it was like to inhale fresh air again. I liked it. It smelled…" _Like white plums._ "…clean and sweet. I had forgotten what it was like. It was beautiful."

_So was she._

So very, very beautiful.

…Even in death.

…

"…They died." A pause. "…I killed them," he corrected, this once not allowing himself the selfish luxury of dodging the blame because no one knew better. It surprised him that he didn't avoid the full truth like he had so often before. In fact, he'd hardly ever told anyone that it was by his own hand that Tomoe had died. It was just something he didn't want to remind himself of; even though he never forgot.

"I wasn't supposed to kill them," he added in a small attempt of self-defense. "I didn't mean to, but that doesn't change the fact of the matter. I never forgot them though, or what they taught me. …That's why I started wandering after the wars; why I stopped killing. I keep hoping that I can protect people now, but… Sometimes I wonder if I'm really doing any good.

"It's like you said, Obaga-san. I also can't decide if I'm doing the world a favor or if it even cares that I'm still around."

Obaga Nuhiro, for his part, did not respond to his story. In fact, he didn't say a word in reaction. Instead, he began talking as though Himura had been waiting patiently for him to start.

"I was part of a very special kendo school once," he said. "I was one of its very first student, in fact. The master was an old friend of mine, and a genius swordsman. Perhaps even a fair match for you, Himura-dono." Nuhiro chuckled at that. "I was only slightly less experienced than he, and quickly became his finest pupil. It wasn't long before I was the first successor of the master title under him. It was a great honor.

"…Then one day, we had a disagreement. I became angry. Much angrier than I rightfully should have been over such a petty thing and I… I…" 

Himura eyed him carefully from the corner of his eye, wondering if he'd pull another "I forgot de gozaru!" on him or not. …But the air was too thick to lie so easily, and the conversation was already too honest. The stars seemed to be pulling truth out by its roots tonight.

"…I also took a life without intending to, Himura-dono. But I not only killed a man that day, I killed a friend, a mentor, and… a school. I was the only successor at that time, but under what I had just done, I could not possibly dare to teach the art; especially under its idealistic and noble principles. …So I ran away.

"The Revolution started almost immediately afterward. You once asked what side I joined, ne Himura-dono?" For his part, the redhead merely nodded. Again, Nuhiro smiled listlessly against the inappropriate circumstances. "Neither," he answered. "I never joined in the war." He pulled his sheathed sword from his belt halfway, indicating towards it. "I've always worn a katana on my belt, but never once in all the Revolution has it tasted blood. I have always fought with a flipped blade since that fateful day. 

"…I suppose you could say that I too have sworn off taking the lives of others as consequence of what a single person's death has taught me. …That's a little sad when you think about it. To have to have one person's fatality teach us one of life's most important lessons.

"…We don't have to practice being fools, Himura. We've always been them."

For a long time, nothing was said. The two of them merely stood side-by-side under the yawning majesty of space, submissing themselves to the reverence that had fallen upon them.

When reverence began to turn into awkwardness, Nuhiro broke the silence.

"Yuiishi-dono told me a bit about your 'adventure' after she got back this evening after dinner de gozaru. She had to tell me about Nikko-dono and the children too, of course." 

"Nikko-dono?" Himura blinked.

"Yes, the young woman watching over those children. …Didn't you know her name?"

"No."

Obaga stared at him incredulously. "You crash through a woman's roof and you don't bother finding out her name?" he asked with heavy criticism, as though that situation had commonly known politeness procedures. 

He sarcastically replied, "Gee, I guess that all the formalities escaped my mind while I was _running for my life_!" 

"They're kids de gozaru!"

"With too much time on their hands," he grumbled. "And she wasn't much help in the matter of containing them."

"I can't believe I'm hearing the Hitokiri Battousai griping about poor child care."

"I'm well aware of that and _don't_ need to be reminded."

"In any case," Nuhiro carried on, "Yuiishi-dono already has you set up to fix their roof tomorrow."

"What about you? Can't you help?"

"Aa, but I'll be running a few errands. Besides, _I'm_ not the one who broke it! I might come and visit you later in the day though since Yuiishi-dono has given us both permission to enter there. I'll come watch you work!"

"Gee, thanks. I can't imagine anything being more helpful than that. Oh wait, yes I can."

"You are way too sarcastic for your own good, Himura-dono. I think that's what leads to your impoliteness."

"…You know Obaga-san, I recall hearing you say something once that I have wanted to quote back to you ever since."

Honored, the samurai asked, "And which slice was that?"

"Bite me de gozaru."

"…Touché."

  


End of chapter nine.

  
  
  


Author's Notes:

I know, I know. Not much humor in this one at all, and it's kinda short. But you know what? This time I don't mind. I kinda liked how this chapter turned out despite it not totally up to genre. As the title indicates, it's just a little interlude; a break maybe. Things will pick back up soon. Promise. ^_^

Well, Nuhiro's past is out! ...Well, most of it. Sorry, can't say anymore or else that'd be a spoiler! ^.^ 

I hope no one minds the Kenshin+Tomoe mush, despite its vaugness and attempted sublty. I really am a die-hard K&K fan, so don't get me wrong fellow Kaoru-lovers. However, Tomoe is/was an awesome character too. ...She's just one it takes a while to warm up too. Face it everybody, Kenshin _needed_ Tomoe in his life when she was there. She just fulfilled her duty, died, and ten years later, it was Kaoru's turn to take over. ...Okay, that's a little too blunt, but in a summerizing POV, that's the way that it is. All in my opinion anyway.

Thanks to those of you who actually search for my fanfic and discovered it updated. I'm so flattered. Well, Chapter 10 will probably have the least reviews now since it wasn't on the open update, but I don't really care. It's all good.

See ya next week, minna! Oh yeah, and I turned 19 recently! Yay!!! I'll tell you my brithday goodness next rant (if there is any ^^;; ...birthday goodness I mean).

  
  



	10. And History Repeats Itself Itself

Disclaimer: Unless I can buy it for... *checks purse* ...$10.58, a Walmart reciept, and a bit of lint, I don't own Rurouni Kenshin.

**A Rurouni's Guide to Idiocy**

Chapter Ten

  


Public relations, as has been previously stated in this story, were not part of a hitokiri's resume, unless by "public relations" you meant "kill people." Construction and lumber work were also foreign to the job description. An assassin didn't need to learn how to replace the rice paper doors he kicked down; that would completely ruin the Dramatic Entry effect.

Despite this however, Himura the Battousai found himself trying to repair the shingles of a rooftop while pleasantly conversing with the lady who lived under it.

"CAN'T YOU KEEP THAT INCESSANT POUNDING NOISE DOWN TO A REASONABLE DECIMIL?!"

The conversing part wasn't going too hot.

"S-sumanu," he answered, looking down at her through a part of the hole that hadn't been covered up yet while leaning forward on the board he'd just nailed in. …Apparently he hadn't nailed it in well enough (despite all of his incessant pounding) and it gave away causing him to pinwheel his arms frantically before falling, catching hold of the edge just in time to save himself… somewhat. Half of him hung rather gracelessly from the damaged ceiling as he awkwardly tried to climb his way back up. "Ororororoooo!" he wailed miserably.

…The repair part wasn't going too hot either.

Nikko stared at him in a cynically incredulous way (an action that didn't quite help his situation) before heavy a long-suffering sigh. "Why do all the men I get stuck with always turn out to be hopeless idiots?" she muttered.

Although he didn't say as much, Himura actually took that as a compliment to the credit of his "training." He had personally decided that it was time to test The Rurouni theory once and for all and play it to his very best capability today. After all, if it were supposed to help save him from disastrous situations, surely it would come in handy on fending off the little kids who apparently wanted to boil him alive. Speaking of the tykes, where were they?

(*Smack*)

"Itai de gozaru," he said when a small pebble bopped him upside the head. Looking down, he found that the children, despite being told otherwise by Yuiishi-dono herself, had still labeled him as their personal torture-toy. With growing fear, he saw that each of them had a small rock in their hands and were led by Futashi himself.

Oh goody. This looked like it was going to involve more pain.

"Fire!" Futashi cried and the onslaught began.

"Oro! Oro! Oro!" Himura squeaked each time he narrowly dodged a stone. He figured that he didn't really have to take this much punishment and as long as it looked like dumb luck was saving him, he'd still be keeping within the rules. However, if he kept it up too long without anything happening, that effect would wear off.

Deciding another "clumsy trip" was in order, Himura made sure to "slip" on a loose board he'd brought up to fix the hole. However, it slipped a little further than he intended and he ended up riding it down and straight off the roof. …Or at least he would have if he hadn't managed to once again grab the edge just in time, hanging there like a cloth drying on the line.

…And why did he keep finding his life intertwined with laundry?

The kids instantly began to laugh at him which he preferred much better than their throwing things at him. He was about to cap off his predicament with another good round of oro's when a scraping noise suddenly came from above. Even though he couldn't quite see it from his vantage point, Himura realized that his little klutz act must've jarred something else loose that was now rolling down the roof towards him.

Looking up, the redhead was able to recognize the object as it reached the edge of the shingles directly above him and fell off. 

It was his hammer.

_Well_ **that** _wasn't planned_, was his brain's sole reaction.

(*Clang!*)

"Oro!"

(*Thud*)

----------

Himura had the vague sensation of being carried. 

"Hey Futashi, what if he'd dead?" a voice floated to his brain. The reply sounded just as hazy in his ears.

"Then it won't matter. It was his own fault anyway. He fell off the roof himself."

As consciousness began to filter further in, he realized it had to have been at least two people carrying him; two small people.

"But we knocked him off balance, didn't we?"

"Well maybe. But he didn't really fall off the roof from that."

Ugh. His head was throbbing like crazy. What had happened? Something about the roof? He was fairly sure these people were talking about him. So what was it…?

"It was only after the hammer landed in-between his eyes. Then he fell."

…Oh yeah…

"Still… Are you sure it's okay to do this? Shouldn't we tell your sister?"

"This was her idea."

For some reason, this provided no comfort to Himura. In fact, he forcefully began pushing his mind back to awareness. 

"Oh. …Well what if this doesn't wake him up?"

"Yeesh, Hiroshi! Will you just lighten up? He'll be fine! …And even if he isn't, what does it matter? Now help me hoist him up."

"Okay."

_Must… wake… up… now!!!_

"Wow, he's light!"

"That's cuz he's built like a girl. Ready?"

_No!!!_

"Hey, I think he's waking up, Futashi! He just groaned."

_Yes! Yes, I'm waking up! Waking up on my own!!_

"Too late. Besides, this'll get him up faster."

_…I'm gonna hurt that kid._

"One…"

Moaning away the grogginess and pain that was beating his brain to putty, Himura slowly opened his eyes.

"Two…"

He blinked away the double-vision just in time to see…

"Three!!!"

(*Splash*)

…what the inside of a barrel full of water looked like.

Oro-ing and gagging, then spluttering and oro-ing some more (this time because he couldn't let himself curse), Himura righted himself and broke the surface of the water. Standing up in the rainwater bin, he judged by the boys' faces that he had the appearance of a drenched cat. …Actually he judged that from their laughter. Their faces seemed to tell him that if they smiled any wider, their faces were going to split in half. …Hmm, tempting…

"Futashi!!" All of them looked over to the side of the house, where Nikko was sternly standing, the other children, who also looked dizzy with hysterics, gathered around her. "I can't believe you just dunked that man into the bin! Shame on you!"

At last! Respect! He was finally getting appreciated around-

"That's good water!! You think anyone wants to drink out of it now?! What do you have to say for yourself?!"

Oh. Nevermind. False alarm.

"You said to splash him with water," the young sibling said in defense.

"Splash him _with_ water. Not _into_ water." Nikko sighed heavily. "Oh well, it doesn't matter much now I guess. But Futashi-kun, leave the guy alone or else he'll never finish the roof. As for you…" She turned toward Himura. "What are you doin' slacking off?! This is no time for a nap!!"

"Oro! I fell off the roof!!" he protested.

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, well isn't that _convenient_. You just _happen_ to be rendered 'unconscious.' Sure."

A bead of sweat rolled down his cheek. "I have the head injury to prove it de gozaru."

"Whatever, Slacker. Naptime's over so get back to work."

"But I wasn't…"

"Ah-ah-ah," she interrupted. "I don't want any more excuses."

"But…"

"Talk to the hand cuz the face ain't listening!" she said in an odd manuver, halting him with her palm.

_The brain ain't listening either_, is what the Battousai wanted to say. But he was being the Rurouni now, so he couldn't quite give "the hand" his honest and colorful opinion. Resigning himself to defeat, Himura climbed back up to the roof. Only once up there did he remember something.

"Anou… Can someone please hand me back my hammer?"

(*Clang!*)

"Oro!"

(*Thud*)

-----------

One ice pack, two concussions, and plenty of bandages later…

"So where do you come from, Himura?"

"All over, I guess you could say de gozaru. I'm a wanderer, after all."

"Sou ka. Been any place interesting?"

"This place is definitely climbing the charts."

Nikko chuckled dryly at that, casting an odd look up at him while futilely trying to reposition her pillows for a more comfortable sitting position. "You can't be much of a traveler if you find _this_ place intriguing. Nothing much happens around here."

The young man grinned wryly. "Trust me, Nikko-dono. I've never had such… unique experiences as I've had here de gozaru."

The woman shrugged with a mutter of, "To each their own," before trying to rearrange herself again. "Stupid lumpy pillows," she added angrily. In a frustrated fit she literally knocked the stuffing out of one before falling back in defeat. "I give up! I'm too tired to do this."

"You should take a nap then," he said in what was exactly the wrong suggestion. She glared up him lethally.

"If I could sleep, I would be already! But I can't because of all the noisy construction going on overhead!"

"I'm trying to keep it quiet," Himura protested in his defense, "but the nails won't stay in well if I don't hit them hard enough."

"It doesn't matter if you hit them loud or quiet! I have to keep awake to make sure you don't slack off again!"

"I told you, I was out cold de gozaru!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. And now I need to keep you awake because of it." In a mocking voice she added, "But Nikko-dono, with these concussions I could lapse into a coma!"

"I could, you know!" 

"Please," she deadpanned. "Be a man and walk it off."

"Oro." He gazed down at her with a helpless stare. "You won't believe anything I tell you, will you? I bet if I came up to you with a katana sticking out of my chest you'd tell me to 'walk if off.'"

"Well, only if you weren't bleeding badly…"

"…I have mentioned you were heartless, ne?"

"…only because someone took it away…"

Himura blinked, her response having been spoken so softly he doubted he'd heard it correctly. Looking down at her, her countenance suddenly seemed darker as her head bowed. "What'd you say, Nikko-dono?"

"I… I said…" Very abruptly did she snapped her head up. "I said, are you gonna take all day?! Honestly, you get no production done at all!!"

Well she was quick to recover. 

"Orororooo… I can't ever get a break, can I?"

The wood groaned beneath him.

"Kami, will you stop taking that literally!!!" he cried just before the shelter broke and sent him 'oro-ing' into the room below, ending with a loud _Crash_. But that not being enough, the repair work Himura had been doing came down a moment later just to let him know what a poor job he'd been doing. That too ended in a similar but slightly longer crashing noise. 

Coughing through the dust this created, Nikko was still able to instantly jumped into action. …Not quite the action Himura had hoped for (which involved checking for his pulse), but action nonetheless.

"That's it, I'm fixing it myself you worthless bum!" she declared. "Where's the hammer?"

(*Clang!*)

"Oro!"

(*Thud*)

"Oh there it is."

----------

"Nikko-chan," Yuiishi inquired as she and Asuka made their way inside with the lunch basket and children in tow. "What's Futashi-kun doing fixing the roof? I thought I left that up to Himura-san. …Speaking of which, where is the man?"

"To answer your first question," the young woman replied as she helped settle the kids down, "Futashi is taking care of it because I can't. I was about to head up there and fix it myself, but my condition puts a bit of restriction on me. To answer your second question…" She jabbed a finger in the direction of a far corner where the two other women found a pile of lumber, dust, and Himura Kenshin.

"Oh dear," the head mistress responded more nonchalance one would expect to hear after finding a boneless heap of a body in the corner of your house. "What's he doing there?"

"Suffering from head trauma, or so he claims," Nikko answered indifferently. "He's been laid up like that ever since he fell off the roof."

"Was it that bad?" Asuka inquired, beginning the servings and not seeming too concerned with much else.

"Well, I figured he could've just licked it off the first two times, but I think that last fall kind of really did him in. Didn't help I suppose that he got hit with the hammer each time as well." The mother-to-be sighed. "I swear, that roof's never gonna get fixed."

"Glad to see you still have your priorities straight, Nikko-chan."

Futashi poked his head into the conversation from the rooftop. "Since the girl man is out cold, can I have his serving?"

"I'm sure he'll want it when he wakes up," Yuiishi chided. "By the way, exactly how long has he been out?"

"More than long enough to have earned his tea-break," Nikko said. "Still, I wouldn't count on him being much more help with the roof. That's not to say Himura's not doing any work, but he's putting holes in it faster than they can be boarded. He's putting _termites_ to shame!"

"He is clumsy, isn't he?" the mistress agreed.

"Careless too," Asuka added, bitter memories of a torn kimono still fresh in her mind.

"And he doesn't have much for taste in clothing…"

"Not to mention his abnormal speed at laundry. Who ever heard of a man doing laundry so fast?"

"He _is_ a bit frail-looking for a man…"

"Like I said, he's a fem-boy," Futashi contributed from the roof.

"And that's another thing I don't get! How can he be so quick at laundry but not be able to patch up a few loose shingles?!"

"Not to mention that hair… I wonder if he's really Japanese."

"He's never responded to my attentions. I wonder if he's really straight."

"I wonder if he's even male!" the boy added again from the ceiling.

"Futashi-kun, get back to work and stop being ridiculous! Of course he's male! He's too stupid to be a woman."

The younger brother paused in recollection to this. "…Hey!"

A fifth voice entered the conversation. "…Anou…" it hesitantly began. "I'm not unconscious anymore. I can hear you talking de gozaru."

Indeed Himura had awaken, but with the topic he'd woken to, he was thinking that the coma would've been better. What was up with the criticism? And why the heck was his sexuality the big debate?! Kami, he knew he'd done some awful things in his past, but to deserve _this_?! Tomoe must've hated him more than she let on. Still, this seemed awfully cruel for a grudge, even against a person who accidentally killed you…

"Ah, awake at last, eh Himura-san?" Yuiishi remarked. "Would you like some lunch?"

The man nodded. "Hai, I would like that very much, Yuiishi-do-"

"Hey, no fair!" a voice from the ceiling protested. "I'm up here doing _his_ dirty work and he gets to eat lunch before me? What's he done to earn it?!"

Nikko and Asuka turned towards their mistress simultaneously. "I agree with the boy," they said.

"…Oro…"

The older woman tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Hmm, well since it does seem a little unfair, and since I don't think we should have you fixing the roof anymore considering the repeated consequence…" She turned to the other women. "Any suggestions?"

_…Uh-oh…_

There was a moment of thoughtful silence that put a heavy weight of impending doom upon Himura's shoulders, much like the feeling of being saved from the noose but suspecting you're being moved on to the guillotine instead. At last Nikko perked up with a mischievous grin on her lips that only helped his foreboding premonition in a "twisting-the-knife" type of way.

"I think I have an idea…" she mused.

----------

"I'm impressed," Yuiishi admitted with a calm sip of her tea. "How did you ever figure out that he'd be the perfect baby-sitter, Nikko-chan?"

The young woman shrugged casually. "It was just a hunch." She cast her eyes out into the yard where the redhead and children were. "Aww, look at that…"

"GAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!"

"…Himura-san's playing with Kuzu-chan's pet spiders."

"Get 'em off me! Getemoffmegetemoffmegetemoffmegetemoffme!!!"

"He's wonderful with children, ne?" their mistress agreed.

"Kami, they're everywhere de gozaru yo!!! Aaaaaahhh!!"

Asuka grinned devilishly. "I like this idea," she quipped.

  
End of chapter ten.   
  
  


Author's Notes:

Whoo, just when you think you get the background to all the invented characters, I throw in another one. ...Which is perhaps not the best thing for a writer to do, but... Scrum it, this is how the story's going. By the way, I realized I wrote Nikko's name wrong in the last chapter, when it was first spelled "Nikkon." No "n!" Yeesh, I'm having trouble with that. The reason I wanted it "Nikko" is because (according to my mini-Japanese dictionary) it means "Sunlight." I actually wanted something close to "Sunshine," so I went with that because I wanted it to be a name that almost seemed opposite her personality. Oh well, I hope it works. ^^; 

Thanks for all the support from everyone about my SDS. I'm well-over it now. I recommend Firefury's "Twisted Paradise" as something of a cure. I had read some of it before it was mentioned in the reviews and it _does_ make you laugh in wake of SDS (I especially found Tomoe and Kaoru's interaction hilarious). Try it.

I still love/hate it(the OAV), but a couple of the Omake episodes of Kenshin and that one fanart also boosted my spirits in a hurry (not to mention watching some Excel Saga, but we'll keep this as RK-related as we can).

Speaking of fanart, I drew some of my own! Yes, that's right people! I like to write _and_ draw! GASP! ...Er, anyway, I just did some sketches of my original characters in some of my favorite scenes with them. (Obaga when he first meets Himura Kenshin; Asuka trying to "warm up" to our battousai/rurouni during breakfast; and Yuiishi observing him "do the laundry.") 

For OBAGA, go to: http://www.geocities.com/songochi/Extra/obaga.jpg

For ASUKA, go to: http://www.geocities.com/songochi/Extra/asuka.jpg

For YUIISHI, go to: http://www.geocities.com/songochi/Extra/yuiishi.jpg

If baka geocities works, they should be enjoyable. More will coming soon! Stick around, minna!

  
  



	11. Conversations

Disclaimer: You can squeeze a rock, but you can't get any water out of it. You can sue me, but you can't get any money out of me. ...Because I don't have any. ...So please don't sue me! ^^; Rurouni Kenshin is not mine!

**Please notice that TWO NEW SCENES were places at the end of Chapter 10. If you have not read them, please do so before continuing on with this chapter. Thank-you.**

**A Rurouni's Guide to Idiocy**

Chapter Eleven

  


After Yuiishi and Asuka departed, a certain routine followed for Nikko and the children. This routine consisted of the kids sticking to quiet games while she took an afternoon nap. While "routine" is still an idea foreign to the minds of an elementary level, the kids actually did a fairly good job of keeping the volume down. Nikko found she only needed two pillows to block out the noise instead of the ordinary five. And thus was how she slept soundly each day (_A/N: Sound-ly, get it? It's a pun and….um, nevermind_).

Except for today. Today, Nikko couldn't sleep at all.

And _that_ was totally messing up her groove.

Her reason for being unable to catch some Z's had nothing to do with the fear of the red-headed stranger outside trying to take advantage of her. After all, he didn't have a spine to break, let alone the guts to even try something like that on her.

Her reason for being unable to saw logs had nothing to do with any occasional annoyance like indigestion or as trifle as a stomachache. (After expecting child, she was convinced that everyone who _hadn't_ been pregnant before had _no_ idea what stomach pains were! She had the stretch marks to prove it.) Besides, if all of the odd food combos she'd been craving these past few months hadn't made her sick by now, nothing would.

And lastly, her reason for being unable to catch a wink of sleep hadn't anything to do with the teeth-rattling, ground-quaking roar outside. 

…Because frankly, there wasn't any.

It was quiet outside. For once it was actually, truly, pillows-not-included quiet outside.

…Which of course made it _too_ quiet, which of course meant something funny was going on, which of course meant that she'd have to be awake to catch it, which of course led right back around to why she couldn't sleep. Follow?

Nikko's first thought to the cause of the quiet had been, _I guess they finally killed him._ ("Him" being Himura of course.) Then she decided that the children would still be making some sort of noise, corpse or no. So she concluded that she'd have to get up and take a look for herself.

Fifteen minutes later she'd finally accomplished the daunting task of climbing to her feet (hard to do when you feel like you've got a whole toh of rice attached to your hips), and promptly felt like getting back off them. Gingerly she stepped past the sleeping form of her brother who had passed out after eating his lunch. She glared at him enviously, momentarily considering "accidentally" waking him just to get rid of her jealousy, but in the end found her sisterly love (which is _not_ an oxymoron contrary to popular belief) wouldn't allow her to do it. With a small sigh she continued towards the door and then completely ruined the effect she had just built by slamming open the door and bellowing at the top of her lungs, fully expecting to catch everyone "in the middle of the act."

She got as far as slamming the door open anyway. Any harsh or commanding tones however died on her lips at the sight before her.

"Oro?"

For a moment Nikko wondered if she had said that, but soon realized it had come from the man sitting on the porch in front of her. Surrounding him in the shade of the veranda roof (the part of it that _hadn't_ come down), were all six children, each curled up or sprawled out in the spot where they each lay. The thought of her theory of the children having killed Himura being vise versa flickered through her mind before she took a closer look to find them all…

Nikko blinked. _Sleeping?! They're actually sleeping?!_ After the shock wore off she couldn't help but to stare at them all tiredly. _Great. Everyone in this house is taking a nap except for me._

"Aa, you're awake now Nikko-dono?" Himura asked her quietly so as not to disturb them. She cast him a wary look.

"What did you do to them?" she question suspiciously.

"Oro," he complained. "Out of all the tricks they've played on me and you wonder what _I've_ done to _them_ de gozaru ka?"

"Yup."

"…Figures." He sighed and told her, "They just tired themselves out, that's all. Most of them just chased me until they got tired, came over here to rest and ended up taking a nap."

Nikko raised an eyebrow accusingly. "And you mean to tell me that you're _not_ tired?"

"Er… I've got great stamina de gozaru," he sheepishly answered. Then his stomach growled loudly. Nikko stared at him wryly as he blushed ever so slightly. "…But it has made me pretty hungry. Would it be too much to ask if any lunch was left for me at all?"

"Well, Yuiishi-sama did leave some behind for you. It's probably a little cold by now, but if you don't mind…"

"Hai, hai, anything is fine," Himura assured her, confident that he would eat a dead rat if it were served in a bento and provided chopsticks. Kami he was starving! Fixing a roof, falling from it three times in a row, and baby-sitting this mob of minors was enough to famish an army! …Luckily he had often been a one-man army himself in the war, so he was only famished and not dead.

Coming back with his slightly cold and stale meal, he took if thankfully and began to eat with a little more vigor than he normally allowed himself. As he did so, he caught Nikko gazing at the children with an amused sense of awe.

"I still can't believe you were able to tired them out. I've never seen _anyone_ tire them out before." She cast her eyes back to him. "Exactly what kind of man are you, Himura-san?"

He tried a casual grin but from her reaction decided that it either wasn't as casual as he would've liked it, or it wasn't even a grin. "Didn't you and the others come to any conclusion about that yet? It seemed an interesting topic after all."

"I'd rather hear it directly from you," she replied, not allowing him to dodge the question. "Besides, one shouldn't jump to conclusions about other people, ne? You'd find that I of all people know that."

_You really could've fool me on that one!_ he thought, recalling how she'd already labeled him a idiot… Not that he wasn't trying to be one, but still…

Instead of answering with that same thought however, he merely inquired, "And why is that, Nikko-dono?"

She blinked at that, obviously not having been ready for that kind of reply. It was a response that required an explanation from her, and by reading her face, it was an explanation she wasn't willing to give. "Nevermind why," she said crossly, jumping off his topic and coming back around to hers. "Answer me. Who are you? Where do you come from?" Her eyes darted to his left cheek. "And how did you get that scar?"

"I'm merely a rurouni de gozaru. I've no place to call my own," he replied after a brief pause, the interrogation having caught him by surprise. Reaching up he lightly brushed his fingers against the cross scar upon his face. "And as for my scar…" She moved in closer as his voice grew heavy and soft. His bangs left a shadow across his face. "As for that…" All at once he looked back up at her, beaming carelessly in a way that Nuhiro would've been proud to see. "Sore wa himitsu de gozaru!" he said lightly.

(*Whack*)

If only her fist had been as light. Funny, that tactic had seemed to work for Obaga…

No, wait… No, he had felt like pounding the old man then too. Nevermind.

"Don't hand me that!" she growled. "Saying things like that only makes you more suspicious!"

"Hey, I'm still injured here!" he wailed miserably, her reprimand having only reminded him that he was still sporting some cranial bruises. 

"Then why don't you try answering my questions seriously?!"

"Maa maa!" he said on an impulse, waving his hands in surrender as he did so. 

Then he abruptly paused and wondered where on earth _that_ had come from.

However, finding that it seemed to work in temporarily subduing her anger, he hastily continued on. "I wasn't lying when I told you that I am a wanderer. However, I'm afraid that the story behind this scar is a rather personal one, Nikko-dono. I hope you respect my privacy as I have respected yours."

The young woman opened her mouth as though to protest and push the matter further, but a certain thought must've crossed her mind to persuade her otherwise, for she then leaned back with a stubborn cross of her arms. 

"Humph," was all she had to add to that.

-----------

Himura's eyes narrowed dangerously. The situation was not shaping up well at all.

He had spent far too much time on this battle than first expected. He should have had this done with by now. He should already be victorious and moving on to the next task at hand, but as luck would have it, his agenda was going to be going through some rescheduling. 

Staring down his opposition with a glare that would have terrified the souls of other men, he carefully mapped out his next course of action before performing it. With silent precision and a single smooth motion, he moved in for the execution… 

…And once again missed the eye of the needle completely.

Sting: 100+ - Battousai: 0.

"Oro. Why am I always doing the women's chores?"

"Something _wrong_ with earning your keep, rurouni?" Nikko asked him in coy yet venom-lined tones.

"Er, no, not at all!" Himura answered hastily, turning back to his current task. "It's just that… well…" He tried threading the needle again, failing just as miserably as before. "I'm not very good at sewing de gozaru!" he confessed.

"Oh for goodness sake… Here, give it to me." 

With his lunch break over, the children still sleeping, and his official banishment from the roof, Nikko had decided that he still needed something productive to do. Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending if you were Nikko or Himura), a small pile of the children's clothing needed some mending done. Having set him to work, Nikko herself had been gracious enough to assist him.

Apparently "assist" meant "do all the work," because that's exactly what Nikko found herself doing.

The pile was done save for one or two articles the young mother-to-be had purposely left for him, determined that he end up doing _some_ of the mending. Himura himself felt a bit embarrassed that he wasn't much help, although inwardly a part of him decided that was a perfectly normal thing since men usually didn't have to do these things. …Then again, most men probably didn't have to do the laundry, but he found he was okay with that. Besides, being the Hiten Mitsurugi specialist that he was, you would _think_ that all that training on speed, precision, and _accuracy_ would help in threading a freakin' needle, but noooooo.

"Aren't you supposed to be a swordsman?" Nikko asked as though reading his thoughts. "Asuka told me you and Obaga-san were swordsmen." She licked the end of the thread.

"Er, hai, we are de gozaru," he confirmed.

"I guess swordsmanship would have nothing to offer in helping do housework then, nee." In one easy fluid motion she had the needle strung and to ensure he was on the right path, started the first few stitches for him before giving him the small yukata for his handling. "Here."

"I suppose not," Himura admitted, a drop of sweat hanging down his brow as he accepted the material. "Arigatou Nikko-dono," he added as he began to follow the pattern she set.

"Nikko-dono," she echoed, scoffing loudly at the title. "There's a name that I'm anything but. I can't decided if I'd be flattered or suspicious of you mocking me if I didn't know you said every woman's name with 'dono.'"

"Knowing you, you'd probably think I was mocking," he said under his breath.

"True," she replied casually, yet he jumped to attention all the same in embarrassment since it wasn't his intention for her to have heard that comment. "But don't take it personally. I just have a grudge against the male population in general. Especially the ones that wield swords." She cast him a stony look from the corner of her eye. "And even more especially the swordsmen who keep secrets."

Himura promptly began to sweat. _Well gee, aren't I the lucky poster boy of all you despise and hate_, he thought, because he dare not mutter that and risk her hearing again. Still feeling he should respond, he opted for a blunt question but asked it with feigned ignorance.

"Why do you hold such a grudge, Nikko-dono?" He waved her off again when her glare began reaching the Death levels. "I'm just curious to know what it is that would have you angry against such a generic collection of people de gozaru! …Especially since I'm one of them."

"Not that it's any of your business," she retorted, "but past experience has just given me a little lesson about the short-comings of men. They want you for one thing only, and after they get it, they couldn't care less about you. Take it and then leave it; a man's motto."

Her harsh words left Himura caught in-between sympathy and anger. Sympathy for her rough past, but anger because it unexplainably provoked memories of his late-wife. He _was_ going to honor and cherish Tomoe for the rest of his life; he knew he would have if things had turned out differently. Nikko was making an unfair assessment of him and others merely because she happed to chose a bad character. A bad career for that matter.

And unwittingly he said as much.

"Shouldn't you expect that from the men who find interest in your line of work?" he asked before thinking. Immediately he regretted it, unable to fathom how he'd let such a careless remark escape his lips. 

Nikko tensed sharply at his words, and the room was completely silent for an entire minute. Then, coldly and without looking at him, her answer hung accusingly in the air.

"Did it ever occur to you Himura-san… that not all the women here are whores?"

And somehow he knew that she was talking about herself.

Ouch. And just when he was beginning to think he couldn't embarrass himself any further… Bam! Somehow his foot finds its way to his mouth and before he knows anything he's chewing on his own tabi.

He wanted to apologize, and he meekly attempted one, but it seemed lost in the weight of the atmosphere. Soon his plea for forgiveness turned into a prayer for something to happen. _Anything_ to happen to bring an end to this awkward situation.

Just then the children woke up.

_Repentance must be at hand_, he thought. _I'm obviously suffering enough for it._

"I'm hungry," the youngest kid, a tiny girl with bright ebony pupils, whined.

"You just ate 4 hours ago," Nikko chided, any hint of her previous hostility gone in the face of the children. Now she was just back to her usual crabby self. "Dinner won't be for another two."

"I'm bored," another complained, this was the boy Himura recognized as Hiroshi. "Play with us Nikko-neechan!"

"I'm too tired to play games," she said pointedly. "Play with Himura again." 

"Oro," the young man yipped, beads of sweat rolling down his face as he was put ont eh spot. "Shi-shikashi…" He looked around for an excuse before realizing he was holding one in his hands. "I'm mending de gozaru!" he explained.

And what a manly excuse it was too.

One of the older girls took a close look at his handiwork. "You sewed the sleeve shut."

"Oro?" He eyed the small gi in his hands, finding that he had indeed forgotten to separate the material as he had absently sewed during the conversation. "Er… oops."

Sighing irritably, the mother-to-be snatched the cloth away from him. "Useless," he heard her mutter under her breath. He would have said something back to that, but his attention was slightly more occupied by the expectant stares of the little ones.

"Himura-niichan!" the youngest squealed merrily. Or ominously. In his current mind-set, which was pretty panicky by now, Himura couldn't tell which one it was. "Play with us!"

"Play with us, play with us!" the others joined in much the similar way he remembered them chanting, "Torture, torture!"

Kenshin fitfully began to beg for Salvation again, preferring its insults to physical pain.

And for once Luck decided to shine on him.

"Gomen kudasai!" a familiar voice called from somewhere outside. "Is anybody here de gozaru ka? Himura-dono? Nikko-dono?"

The children momentarily blinked in confusion, wondering where the sound was coming from and from whom. Himura on the other hand, didn't waste any time.

"Stranger!" he announced, pointing outside and towards the gate. These two simple words seemed to provoke the desired reaction, which was basically turning their attention away from him.

"Stranger! Stranger!" they all began hollering together, nearly crawling on top of one another as they stampeded out of the door and into the yard.

Himura listened to the commotion that followed with a bit of relief, amusement, and wonder at when he had become so cruel.

"Stranger, stranger!"

"Oro? Oh hello! You must be the kids Yuiishi-dono told me abouuuuuOWWWW!!!"

"No strange me allowed back here!"

"B-but I'm not a stammmphm!"

"Good, keep him down!"

"Onto the torture!"

"YAY!"

"Mmmfnffmm?!?!?!"

Nikko cast a glance at Himura from the corner of her eye. 

"And you call me heartless."

He winced and confessed, "I've been corrupted de gozaru."

"Welcome to the club," she smirked.

  
End of chapter eleven.   
  
  


Author's Notes:

Well, this chapter took so long because I kinda took the hiatus during the entire FF.net down time. ^^; Gomen, but I hate to admit that I'm almost burning down on this fic. That's why I posted another one despite this one not being finished. Only the prologue though. I won't be continuing that fic until this one is done. Still, if you like this humor, go ahead and read The Akabeko Crisis and see what's to come after this.

Gah. I'm also losing focus on this fic. I know _where_ to take it, but I'm no longer sure of how to get there. *sighs* I'll figure something out soon. Promise! The fic WILL be completed!

As you may have noticed, the chapters have been compiled and had some small revisions done (but I still didn't catch _everything_). Everything's still here, just moved around due to the compiling.

I forgot to mention any "birthday goodness" last Notes, so here they are! ...Um... I got my favorite ice cream. ^_^; Well, other stuff happened and my brother's got me nice gifts (anything anime is a nice gift), but I actually didn't do much. It was just a small family affair which was cool with me. But thanks to everyone who wished me a happy one! *sniffles* I felt special.

Um... yup, that's it for now I guess. I'll try to pump out the next chapter soon. ...And gosh, I can't believe I'm gonna ask for this, but please review! I never realized exactly how much that motivates me until I go about 2 weeks straight without new reviews.

Gah! Sorry, sorry, sorry! I _hate_ sounding like that because that's pathetic but... just... suggesting. =P Well anyway. Later minna!

  
  



	12. Mama Jokes and Mysteries

Disclaimer: I didn't create them, didn't buy them, and weren't given them. So Rurouni Kenshin is still not mine.

**A Rurouni's Guide to Idiocy**

Chapter Twelve

  


"Hey Girly Man! Hand me that piece of wood!"

"Um, I have a name de gozaru," the redhead replied, following instructions still the same. "It's Himura Kenshin."

Futashi rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Just stay off the roof and do what I tell you to."

"Hai, hai."

The conversation between them hadn't changed much from that for the past hour. Futashi had naturally woken up during all the commotion that occurred upon Obaga's arrival. However, after having joined in the activities himself for a good 30 minutes, the boy's older sister had snapped at him with a reminder that the roof still needed repair. Immediately he went back to work (who could blame him with a warning like the one she gave him?), but left the "welcoming committee" to take care of their new guest. 

Little progress was made alone. Heck, Himura had worsened the damage trying to fix it himself. But a boy of Futashi's weight and size simply couldn't handle the task without help, and since Nuhiro was busy being… "entertained," that left Himura up for carpenter duty again; even if it only was an assistant position.

The banishment of the roof stayed firm however, and Kenshin had to stay on the ladder leading up to the housetop, handing and steadying whatever he could for Futashi until the job would be done.

"I meant the _other_ piece of wood! The long one on your left!"

"That's my right de gozaru. It's your left."

"Just hand it to me!"

"Hai, hai," the 19-year old obeyed, eyebrow twitching just a slight fraction as he kept his patience in check.

The job wasn't going to be done for a while.

Himura had to admit though that he was getting a little bored just handing things off and unable to do much else. Well… Watching Nuhiro and the little hellions had a high amusement factor, but Futashi kept berating him for not paying attention. This sometimes led to the boy tattling to his sister who then would _really_ give him an earful. It was best to stick one's mind to the task at hand (not matter how dull it seemed).

"So how long have you and your sister lived here, Futashi-kun?" he asked, hoping to occupy the spare time and come to more friendly terms with the boy.

Nikko's little brother merely paused to raise an eyebrow at him suspiciously (that seemed to run in the family). "Why do you want to know?" he asked.

"Just curious de gozaru," the redhead replied, waving his hands in a disarming manner. Hey, it had worked on his sister, maybe it'd work on him too. "Did you live here all your life? Are you like these other children, being born and raised here?"

The boy paused, then gave him a stony glare. "Was that an indirect way of calling my mother a skank?"

"Oro?! N-no, of course not!"

"What about your kaasan?" Futashi egged on. "How do I know she didn't work in a brothel?"

Himura frowned at that. "Now listen here! My okaasan-"

"Was so fat, when she sat by Mt. Fuji people couldn't tell the difference between them!"

Futashi abruptly burst into a hysterical bout of laughter while Himura couldn't decide if he would use an "oro" or a 2x4 to answer to that. Before he could choose anything however, the boy was back with more.

"Your kaasan was so fat, her geta were tree trunks! They couldn't find a kimono her size! Her obi doubles as a red carpet! Whoo-ee, I'm on a roll!"

The 2x4 was sounding really good by now.

Himura bristled under the insults, appalled and infuriated at the rude gall of his kid. Offending people must've been a family trait, because he and his sister had that talent in spades! While he knew he could never really bring himself to beat some sense into the boy (although it was very, _very_ tempting right now…), two could play at this game. Futashi was about to learn a similar lesson that Obaga did.

Nobody trash talks the Battousai's okaachan… er, okaa_san_.

Futashi grilled up for another one, enjoying the faces Himura was making. "Your kaasan's so fat-"

"Your kaasan's so fat, she has to take her baths in the sea! And then she's so ugly, the fish die at the sight of her. …De gozaru yo," he added for emphasis.

Futashi stared wide-eyed for a moment, shocked that he received retaliation, and that it was a double-whammy at that! …Maybe not the most original, but a double-whammy nonetheless. Himura for his part had his arms crossed defiantly, but he wasn't smirking in triumph. There was merely a look in his eyes that stated he was ready to meet whatever was thrown at him. In other words, it was a challenge. Futashi liked challenges.

"Your kaasan's so ugly she pickles plums just by looking at them."

"Your kaasan's so dumb she wraps the rice around the nori."

"You kaasan's so fat the boat had to load her as cargo when she vacationed to China!"

"Your kaasan _was_ the boat to China!"

Needless to say it carried on like this for quite a while until eventually both ran out of ideas and eventually got caught in a childish return of one line.

"Your kaasan!"

"No, your kaasan!"

"No, your kaasan!!"

"Your kaasan de gozaru yo!!"

"WHAT IN THE WORLD IS GOING ON UP THERE?!?!"

The "discussion" came to a dead halt and both males peered down the hole to find a very irate and pregnant Nikko glaring murder at the both of them.

"Well?" she asked through gritted teeth.

_Crap_, Himura thought. _The kid's gonna rat on me and of course she's not gonna believe me, and I am so dead de gozaru yo…_

"Nothin' oneesan. We're just talking."

_I knew it! He took advantage of this and made me look bad and… and… And what did he just say?_

"Just talking?" Nikko inquired, clearly disbelieving. "Talking about what?" She turned an expectant eye to Himura. 

"Anou…" The redhead sweated nervously under that piercing glare. However, it seem to phase the young boy.

"Guy stuff, oneesan!" Futashi answered indignantly. "And we can't tell you about guy stuff! It's just between guys!"

"Of course," they heard her mutter before turning up at them again with a still angry look, although Himura was sure that it wasn't as menacing as it was a moment ago. "Well all of your 'guy talk' isn't getting the roof fixed! I want that thing done by tomorrow, ya hear? Yuiishi-sama will here soon, but I want you two to keep working until then! Got it?"

"Hai oneesan," Futashi said with a roll of his eyes.

"Hai Nikko-dono," Kenshin replied with more humility.

Casting them one last lingering glance, she sighed irritably and walked away muttering something incoherent, but unpleasant-sounding all the same, under her breath.

Himura turned back to Futashi, wanting to say something but unsure of how to say it. A moment ago they had been throwing the worst insults at each other but now… Well, right now Futashi wasn't even looking at him. The boy suddenly looked to be completely absorbed by his work, absently instructing the other to hand him more supplies. Himura couldn't quite understand what this meant, but the boy seemed to be contemplating something other than where to place the wood and nails.

Just as the Ishin Shishi had decided to let the kid alone to his thoughts, Futashi spoke.

"My sister and I came here last year," he said, not taking his eyes away from what his hands were doing. "We were both born in a good home to good parents." A pause in his hammering, then the boy straightened up, turned, and stared Himura straight in the face. "My mother was the wife of a samurai." There was no mention of rank. "She died before my sister and I came here."

Himura met his gaze steadily, and paused before contributing. "Mine was the wife of a farmer. She died when I was too young to remember much about her." 

They held eye contact. "It must be sad not to remember much about your own okaasan."

"…Sometimes," he confessed.

Futashi nodded once and turned back to the repairs, briefly adding, "I bet she was nice."

Himura's answer was murmured, hence it lost to the competition of the noisy hammering.

"I think she was."

A small smile, the most genuine he'd given in a long time, graced his lips, silent and unseen.

…And then his mouth opened in a wide surprise when he was nearly yanked down the ladder. "Ororororoooo!!!" Looking down, he found Obaga clinging to his hakama in a desperate attempt to pull himself to higher ground away from the mob of children.

"Tasukete, Himura-dono!!" he wailed.

"Hey, watch it! You nearly pulled me off de gozaru!"

"Tsukete!"

"What happened to 'they're just kids?'"

"I never proclaimed being _good_ with kids."

"Well let go! You're still pulling me down!"

"Grab him!" one of the children cried, and a moment later, four of them had a firm grip on the edge of Obaga's pants. "Pull!!"

"ORO!!!" both rurounis cried in unison as the ladder itself became pulled from its resting position against the house. And the more the kids tugged, the further they got from it until the ladder was nearly standing up on its own.

"Futashi-kun, I could use some assistance!" Himura shouted, trying to lean his weight in so he could move the ladder the other way. Futashi was quickly to his feet and using a piece of shingling for Himura to grab and pull himself in with. The swordsman grabbed the board and let out a sigh of relief. The boy had helped him once before and now was aiding him once again. It seemed like they had finally become friends!

…At least it seemed that way until Futashi gave the board one solid shove, tipping the scales of balance and sending the two men reeling the other way. …You know, the way that led them to crashing painfully into the ground.

"I think this will hurt de gozaru," Obaga informed his student as the earth rapidly came up to greet them.

"Thanks for the newsflash."

"Your welcome. …Do I know what a newsflash is?"

"Uh…"

(*CRASH*)

-----------

"Itadakimasu!" the small band of children chorused happily before devouring their dinners. Himura accepted his in a similar manner, but not quite as much enthusiasm. The head mistress, Yuiishi Nanari, had not joined them that evening on the account that she was expected to host the events in the main hall that night. Asuka had come with the faithful delivery however, and she and Nikko were currently serving the others. Obaga Nuhiro meanwhile…

"Aren't you going to join us, Obaga-san?" Nikko asked, absently wiping clean one of the smaller children's mouths as she observed the old samurai heading towards the gate.

"Sumimasen, but I have some errands to run!" the elder announced, almost looking a little too anxious to leave the yard, nervously eyeing the kids out of the corner of his eye. "I should be back before dark! Ja ne!"

"But it's dark now," Nikko replied, but the man was already gone. She cast a glance at the sky, noting the approaching twilight. "At least it will be soon." She sighed. "What kind of chores could that man possibly have _now_? And why didn't he take care of them earlier?"

"He's actually been out 'doing chores' a lot lately," Asuka informed, sensing the opportunity to gossip. "As to what these chores are though, I'm not entirely sure."

"Doesn't Yuiishi-dono send him to do the chores in town?" Himura interrupted, quickly becoming drawn into the conversation about his companion. Even though Asuka had often kept aloof around him ever since the destruction of her favorite kimono, it seemed even a sour memory couldn't stop the brothel girl from spilling these beans.

"Some yes," she told him, "but not enough to account for all the times he's been out. Just this morning I caught him leaving and when I asked where he was going, he said he was going off to buy tofu."

"What's so strange about that?" Nikko inquired. 

"He forgot the tofu bucket, and came back empty handed this afternoon."

There was just enough pause following that sentence to arouse an air of mystery.

"Maybe he came back earlier with it and you just missed him," Nikko reasoned, although she was obviously curious as well.

"What about forgetting the bucket?"

"Maybe he got a new one."

"Well then where did he go afterwards?"

"Maybe Yuiishi-sama sent him out for another chore!"

"Why wouldn't she just have them do it both at once?"

"Maybe she forgot!" the pregnant woman replied, annoyed by all the questions but even more worried by the fact that the answers seemed less and less likely. Heck, the thought of Nuhiro getting a new bucket himself was completely loony.

"That still doesn't explain why he's been out so much," Asuka pointed out, pouting at the fact that most of her dramatics had been shot down by Nikko's ever-cynical nature. Suddenly looking enlightened by an idea, she turned to the redhead. "What do you know, Himura? He's your uncle or teacher or something, isn't he? You came here with him. What's he been up to?"

"Oro?"

Asuka's countenance immediately darkened. "Don't try that 'oro' stunt on me now, rurouni. Cough it up or I'll reach down your throat and pull it out myself."

Himura gulped. He never knew women could be so frightening.

"I really don't know," he confessed with a sheepish grin. Then, as Asuka armed herself with a rice paddle, he hastily added, "I only don't know where he's been because I've been doing laundry the whole time! Well, either that or I've been here! I've only been in town with him twice! Once for shopping, another for sparring!" _Er, well, this isn't counting the stuff before coming here…_

"Are you sure?" Asuka asked warningly.

"Positive de gozaru!" It was his turn to look thoughtful. "Although I am curious to know where he's been too now. I didn't even realize he was sneaking out anywhere."

"This is if he's sneaking out at all," Nikko interjected. Asuka looked like she was about to argue when the woman added, "I'm not saying he _isn't_, but you can't keep jumping to conclusions about everybody over every little thing. You can keep an eye on him if it makes you feel better, Askua-chan, but don't just go off and suspect him of the worst without any evidence."

_Look who's talking!_ Himura wanted to say, but didn't.

"And Himura, I think it's your duty as his pupil or whatever to find out what he's up to."

"We expect a full report tomorrow evening," the other young woman remarked. Nikko shot her a side-ways glance but said nothing in protest.

"How am I supposed to do that?" the 19-year old asked. Both girls shrugged.

"Don't know," one said.

"Don't care," the other ended. 

The young swordsman frowned. "Glad to have your support."

  
End of chapter twelve.   
  
  


Author's Notes:

Good news! After posting the previous chapter, I did a lot of brainstorming for this story and have plotted out a path! ...Of course, some of it has to be revised because by now we were supposed to know more about Nikko's past. But that "Mama joke" scene came out of no where and I didn't have the heart to erase it and start over. ^^; Blah, I can't tell a Mama Joke to save my life, but I tried to make up/revise some so that they would be "Japanese Mama Jokes" (a.k.a. "Your Kaasan Jokes). I hope I didn't offend anyone's ears by telling them so badly. Oh well. When else are you ever gonna hear Battousai go off on Mama Jokes? I couldn't resist.

I appreicate the support, ideas, and help that people offered me. I had already known _where_ I was taking the story, it was just a problem of how to _get_ there. I think I have most of it covered now though.

Unfortunately, while I have a destination and a path to get there, I still won't be pumping these chapters out like I have before. School and work are catching up with me real hard right now. But I will endure and persist! Just be patient with me, minna. ^^

Again, thanks for all of your help and support! Stay tuned! Oh, and before I forget! I have one word for reviewer Sakura MysticMoon.

**Deal.** ^_^

  
  



	13. When Things Begin to Unravel

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, never will. …Gee, thanks for twisting _that_ thorn into my side.

**A Rurouni's Guide to Idiocy**

Chapter Thirteen

  


The silent morning air was cut by two cries. 

"RYU SON SEN!!!" was the second. 

Himura watched Nuhiro fall out-cold onto the floor in a boneless heap, as was the strange new morning routine. 

"Drat," he muttered in retrospect. "I meant to keep him conscious." 

-----------

Obaga had been late getting back last night, Himura having pretended to be asleep when the old samurai slipped in. He had considered confronting the man then and there, but some instinct told him that if he did, his questions would be haplessly avoided by Nuhiro's skill at playing the absent-minded fool. 

…Useful technique that, even if disadvantageous when he was the interrogator. Still, it was a skill he should look into mastering sometime…

Deciding to wait until morning while using the night to ponder over how he would pry into the elder's business without looking like he was meaning to, the Ishin Shishi kept silent, waiting for his chance the next day. 

Obviously, he had blown that plan, seeing as to how the codger was comatose. Himura had still dragged the unconscious form to the breakfast table in case an opportunity arose when the old man regained his senses. Yuiishi didn't seem thrilled about it, but she also didn't seem to care much. 

"No dead bodies at the table," was all she seemed content to say. 

"He's not dead… yet," Himura replied. "A little out cold maybe…"

"Well not out cold bodies either. No consciousness, no service." 

"Well he won't be this way for long…"

"Ororororoooo…" came the assuring sound of recovery. 

"See? He's getting better." 

"No he's not. I bet he'll lapse again in a moment." 

Eyes still swirling with incoherence, Obaga dizzily murmured, "I don't want to go on the cart…"

A large bead of sweat rolled down Himura's brow. 

"See?" the mistress pointed out. 

"It's just taking him a while," the boy insisted. "He feels fine. Don't you, Obaga-san?" 

"I think I'll go fer a walk de gozaru…"

"You're not fooling anyone, you know," Yuiishi sniffed. She then cringed as Nuhiro began to strike up a tune, unable to carry a single one of its notes. Himura looked equally as irritated now. This was clearly more than he could stand as well. "Look," she said at last. "Isn't there something you can do?" 

"I feel happy!" Obaga sang. "I feel happy!" 

(*Whack*)

The elder fell over, sporting yet one more bruise earned that day from the Battousai. 

"Ah," Yuiishi sighed. "Thanks very much." 

"…Drat," was all the other could say. "I keep forgetting I want him conscious. That's a new thing for me you know. Wanting him conscious I mean." 

"Just get it off my table. Rice?" 

-----------

"So have you found out anything?" 

Himura stopped sweeping the porch to cast Asuka a disbelieving look. "It's been less than a day! Give me a bre - er, I mean, cut me some slack de gozaru," he finished, hoping to keep clear of the literacy that tended to befall him. 

Blowing a few strands of hair from her face irritably, she pressed, "Well get a move on it! He came home really late last night and I want to know why." Tuning away thoughtfully she mused, "I doubt it's a woman. There are plenty of girls here and he doesn't seem to be the committable type… Maybe he's a thief! Or a murderer! But I haven't heard about any thefts of deaths recently… Maybe…"

"Maybe you should just leave it to me, Askua-dono," Himura admonished. "I'm sure I can find out for you soon." 

"If I left it completely up to you," the woman pouted, "I would never hear about anything!" 

"Your vote of confidence is overwhelming." 

"That's why I took the liberty of going through his things for you." 

"_What_ things?" 

"Exactly," she said, a bit disappointed. "I only found a sake bottle and change purse, both were empty." 

"Not surprising." 

"…And since I was there I went through your stuff too." 

"Nani?!" 

"What this?" Asuka asked, holding up a bundle of light-colored fabric. A_ familia_r bundle of light-colored fabric. Hoo boy. _That_ bundle of light-colored fabric. 

"Er, that's a long story de gozaru," he answered, rubbing the back of his neck. 

"Summarize." 

Himura remembered well how he had haphazardly ended up with the pale material. How could he forget? It's not every day you attempt to make a fool of yourself in public. That first day he and Obaga had started earning their keep at the brothel (boy did _that_ sound odd) and had gone shopping; the first official day of "training." His… encounter with the cat, carpenter, errand boy, saleswoman and crate had left a deep impression on his memory (and his skull). Afterwards he had apologized humbly, helping the boy refill his water pails and dusting off and folding up the woman's wares. However… one such piece of cloth didn't quite get away so easily. 

As his luck would have it, he ended up landing hard on one of the fabrics that he'd gotten entangled in, damaging it just enough that it would no longer bring in the price it once could. Since it was his fault, Himura compensated her loss buy purchasing the fabric at its original price. Now that he looked back to think about it, he probably just should have paid the price of difference. It would've been cheaper and he wouldn't have something useless on his hands, because frankly he didn't know _what_ to do with it now. And he told Asuka just as much. 

…Well, he left out the "training" bit. And the embarrassment. …And the general falling down on everyone part. She didn't need to know that. 

"You should give it to Nikko-chan," Asuka recommended. "She's good with sewing. She makes all of the clothes for the little kids. I'm sure that one of the girls would like a kimono made out of this." 

"Maybe she could make you a new kimono to replace the one I… er… nevermind," Himura trailed off as Asuka shot him a frightening glare. Before the situation could grow more awkward however, Obaga came ambling around the house, fully conscious now, and heading for the gate. "Oro," the redhead said, more for the effect of dissuading Asuka from yelling at him than from actual surprise. "Obaga-san, where are you off to?" 

"Oro?" was the equal reply, but genuinely startled this time. Asuka muttered something about appearances not having anything to do with relations, but it was ignored or overlooked as the old samurai continued on. "Oh I'm just going into town to run another errand for Yuiishi-dono. I'll probably be back late." 

Asuka promptly elbowed the former-hitokiri in the ribs, earning a complaint. "Follow him," she hissed quietly, so as not to arouse suspicion. The Art of Subtlety tends to be lost on girls in her line of work however, and Himura could see a slight look of apprehension dawn on Nuhiro's face. 

"I'm getting to it," he muttered back before turning to the elder. "Allow me to go with you, Obaga-san. I'm sure I can help. And I've been meaning to talk to you." 

"Anou… well, you see…" Obaga momentarily floundered. 

"I would like you to stay here, Himura-san." 

Turning around, the Ishin Shishi and brothel girl found Yuiishi Nanari standing in the doorway, looking as elegant and stern as ever. 

"Is there something you need from me, Yuiishi-dono?" the redhead asked. 

"Yes, I would appreciate if you stayed here and watched Nikko-chan and the children for me." 

Babysitting duty again. Yippee. 

"Yuiishi-sama," Asuka interrupted, "I can watch them today." Kenshin blinked, impressed that Asuka was this anxious to learn what was going on. He hadn't thought too much of it himself, but if she was this interested, perhaps there was more than met the eye? "Don't you think you should send Himura out to help an old man like Obaga with the chores?" the young woman finished. 

"Hey! I'm not that old!" came a protest that was ignored. 

Nanari shook her head. "I wish for Himura to watch over them. He's done a fine job in the past…" 

_ That must mean that I'm the only one to have survived this long_, Himura mused. 

"…And besides, Nikko's taking the children out to the riverside today. I had already promised them a day outside and it's time to keep my word on it. I want Himura to supervise them." 

_ They're being unleashed to the public?! _ the rurouni-trainee balked. _Orororo. This might be difficult. There are so many more places for a kid to hide when there's a large lack of fence-confinement._

"But Yuiishi-sama, Nikko-chan's condition…" the other woman stated. 

"That's why I want you to go with them as well, Asuka-chan. Keep a close eye on Nikko-chan while Himura watches the children," the head mistress charged firmly, leaving no room for argument. 

Asuka sighed. "Hai, Yuiishi-sama." 

"Head inside to get ready, Dear." 

"Hai, Yuiishi-sama." 

Nanari waited until the woman had disappeared inside before turning her gaze across the yard to the samurai. "Remember where I told you to look," she said. 

"Of course, Yuiishi-dono!" Obaga smiled listlessly. "Don't worry about a thing. I'll be back in time for supper." 

Nodding, the woman headed inside herself. And through that small interaction, Himura knew. Yuiishi was in on this too. 

Kami, what was going on here? 

"Oh, and Himura-dono." The redhead looked back at the graying swordsman, startled to find a glint of caution in his eyes. "You might want to make sure you're always carrying your sakabatou with you for a while." And with that, the man exited through the gate and was gone. 

…

_ Okaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay. _

-----------

The scene at the riverside was one of peace and serenity. The children were playing innocently amongst themselves, Asuka was socializing (a.k.a. gossiping) with Nikko, and the mother-to-be seemed to be in a very pleasant mood. It was a picture perfect mid-morning. 

Too bad Himura missed it due to apprehensively waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

Leaning back against a tree that overlooked the bank and kept him isolated from the others, he tucked his sword securely against his shoulder. It was his most favored position when expecting the unexpected and had also become a simple habit from his war days. He only wished now that he could decide what was the most unpredictable factor right now…

A possible assault (if that's what Ogaba was warning him about), or Nikko's mood. …Throw in the kids' ability to keep up this non-violent playtime. 

Himura wasn't sure what had everyone in such a content state, but he figured it had something to do with Nikko's disposition. In fact, the reflection of her lighter attitude seemed to prove a bit of truth to the adage, "When Momma's not happy, ain't nobody happy." In this case, Nikko's refreshingly less-cynical essence today seemed to lift everyone's spirit. Either everyone found this to be a great relief, or her bond with others was deeper than it first appeared. 

_ I wonder what's got her in such a good mood today_, he wondered. 

"The baby started kicking again last night." 

Himura had sensed the boy approaching a while ago (hey, he was on alert here after all), and turned to acknowledge Futashi who was now standing only a couple yards away. 

"What was that?" he asked, the kid's words confusing him for a moment. 

"The baby," Futashi explained, stepping closer. "It started kicking last night after you left." He cast his eyes over to his sister. "She always gets happy when she feels it kick. The other kids get happy about it too. That's why she's happy today." 

Himura quickly shook off the odd feeling of having his mind read and turned back to keep watch over the company put in his charge. "I see." 

Futashi stood next to him for a moment, also keeping a diligent eye on the crowd, before sitting down at his side without any complaint. Himura noticed this but didn't say anything, just like he hadn't said anything this morning when Futashi unexpectedly called off the mob of children from giving him his daily dirt bath. …Of course, that didn't stop the eldest boy from tripping him over the stairs, but something was definitely different than before. Futashi's attitude towards him seemed changed somehow. Himura didn't know why or how it happened, but heck, as long as it was happening for the better, who was he to complain? 

"You actually look like you know what you're doing, ya know." 

Himura blinked and turned towards the boy. "Hn?" 

Futashi motioned towards him and his sword. "Sitting like that and holding your sword. You actually look like you know how to use it." 

"Well I have had a little bit of practice," Himura grinned, unknowingly stating the winning entry for the Understatement of the Year award. 

"So I've overheard. Asuka talked a lot about you when you and the other old man came here. Said you were swordsmen." 

"Well we do carry around swords," he replied good-naturedly. "Anyone could naturally conclude that de gozaru." 

"Oneesan isn't too fond of swordsmen…" he trailed off, looking pointedly at his sister across the way. 

Well_ this_ conversation seemed familiar…

"I've noticed," Kenshin said a bit nervously, a bead of sweat lolling down his scarred cheek. Turning to the boy he then asked, "Is that why you didn't like me either, Futashi-kun?" 

The younger crossed his arms defiantly. "I _still_ don't like you, Fem Boy." 

A weary chuckle. "Sou ka?" 

"…But…" Himura looked up curiously to find the boy casting a hesitant but neutral glance from the corner of his eye. "…You're not as bad as others." 

A small, and slightly sad grin. "Sou ka…"

"Don't worry," Futashi remarked casually, lightening the atmosphere. "I think she's beginning to trust you since you've hung around so long like you have. And I think that's because you're not here for the reasons other men are." 

The redhead blinked, not expecting the tiny comfort given from this child. Something had changed indeed. 

Maybe he should insult people's mothers more often…

Shaking his head, Himura mused that that had probably been a one-time only thing. But as long as Futashi seemed to be in a trusting and conversing mood, then maybe…

"But your sister isn't a brothel girl is she?" he politely inquired of the boy. "I was told that she doesn't work here..." _Boy, did I ever get told. _ "…So what reason would she have for fearing the men that come for… er, other purposes?" 

"It's not just them, it's all guys. She's…" He paused reluctantly, looking for the words to continue. "…Had it rough." 

"I would imagine you have too." When Futashi eyed him curiously, the 19-year old smiled sympathetically. "You mentioned your mother passed away before coming here de gozaru. It must've been difficult for the both of you." 

"Yeah, well… she's had to deal with other stuff. More than I really had to. I'm not the one who had to get married." 

Himura blinked. So did Futashi. 

"I probably shouldn't have said that," he said on an afterthought. 

"Nikko-dono was married?!" 

"No! …Well, kinda… it's just that she was supposed to…" The boy threw his hands up in the air. "It's complicated, and I shouldn't be talking about it!" 

Sometimes there came a point where you had to let a subject drop. 

…This wasn't one of them. 

"An arranged marriage?" Himura guessed, piecing together the tidbits he'd gathered and trying to milk the conversation for all it was worth. 

"…Yeah," Futashi hesitantly confirmed before hastily adding, "But I shouldn't be talking about it! Oneesan doesn't like talking about it." 

"Well I am not talking to your sister, I'm speaking to you de gozaru," he grinned harmlessly. "I can assure you I can keep a secret." The younger folded his arms crossly and looked away. Himura decided to use a little bait. "Could it be that you traveled here with her so that she could escape the engagement? Or perhaps you did something terrible and…"

"We came here for protection, Girly Man!" Futashi blurted before he knew what he was saying. "He was gonna keep hurting her if we didn't do anything!" 

The air turned heavy with their silence, tuning out the happy sounds made by the others. 

"I probably shouldn't have said that," the kid then muttered bitterly. 

"I won't tell anyone if that's what worries you," Himura promised, but his eyes lost their humor to the concern growing within him. "But how was her fiancé hurting her?" 

Futashi must've seen the devout loyalty on Himura's face as he began to appear wavering in his stubbornness to remain secretive (not that he'd been doing that great a job anyway…) "It's a long story," he said at last. 

"I have plenty of time to listen de gozaru." It seemed to be working, but the boy still looked a little uncertain. Time to throw in a pinch of male pride for the clincher. "I wish no harm to either you, your sister, or anyone else under your protection, Futashi-kun." Yup, that got the kid's ears to perk up. "In fact, I wish to aid you in keeping them safe in any way I can. But in order to do that, I need to know what I am helping to protect them from." 

Himura could see Futashi's resolve melt into a slight wonder. "You mean you… you…"

_ Yes, even though I am a stranger, I am willing to risk anything to protect others_, he prepared to say (egotism slightly getting the better of him for once). 

"…You're gonna take orders from me?!" the younger finished incredulously. Himura hit the dirt face-first. "Man, this'll be so cool! My very own lackey!" 

"Oro?! Er… that's not quite what I…"

"Alright, Fem-Lacky, you have to vow a solemn oath that you won't tell anyone else this unless I say so, got it?" 

_ Oro. "Fem-Lackey"? Yeesh, this kid just can't pass up the opportunity, can he? But as long as he's willing to share some information…_

Swallowing his pride, Himura gave Futashi a curt nod that still held the respect and agreement that was desired. Sitting back with his own nod, Futashi drew in a deep breath before he began. Himura waited. 

"…"

And waited. 

"…"

And waited. 

"…"

And soon got fed up. 

"While I'm young, if you don't mind," the redhead deadpanned. 

"It's hard to think of where to start," Futashi grumbled back at him. "I told you it's long and complicated." 

"How about just starting with an explanation of the arranged marriage?" he prodded. 

"Um… yeah, good idea Girly Man." 

"Thanks… I think." 

Becoming quite serious, Futashi used a hushed tone to tell his tale. "My father arranged my sister's engagement. It was to a family of samurai of slightly higher class, so he thought it'd be good for her. You know, securing her a promising future and all that..." 

"But her chosen husband was not the model man she hoped for," Himura concluded with a sage nod of his head. 

"Heck, no! He was great!" Futashi spouted indignantly. 

"Oro?!" Himura stared oddly at the boy. "B-but I thought you said…"

"Just shut up and wait for me to finish and you'd see what I was talking about!" Himura obediently clamed up. "Amatomo Seitaro treated my sister like gold, respected my parents, and even began training me a little. Oneesan was really happy to be marrying him, and they even loved each other. She once told me how lucky she was… Before…"

Himura cocked his head in curiosity. "Before…?" he gently encouraged after Futashi had remained silent for quite a while. 

The boy looked off into space. "…The Bakumatsu," he finished quietly. 

In a way, Himura had been anticipating that answer. Many lives had been deeply affected by the results of the war; even more had been affected due to being involved with it. And had Nikko's fiancé truly been of samurai decent, then no doubt he was likely involved. It wasn't at all new, shocking, surprising, or completely unexpected. 

…These trifle facts offered little comfort however. 

Before Himura realized it, the boy had continued. "Seitaro-kun left to fight, of course. His family and my dad; off to defend the Shogunate. I was too young to fight so I got left behind. Oneesan kept hoping everything would be okay, but…"

A sudden lump of dread began to form in Himura's stomach. 

"…One day somebody from the Shogunate army came to the house…"

_ …Kami, please don't…_

"…Seitaro-kun was killed after accidentally stumbling upon an assassination of an important member of the Tokugawa government." 

_ …don't let it be…_

"…He was a possible witness so I guess that's why they killed him too. And from what they told us, it wasn't just any Ishin Shishi soldier…"

_ …anyone else, just not…_

"…but by their shadow assassin." 

And the bombshell dropped in silent agony. 

Futashi remained oblivious to the inner plight of the man beside him and simply continued to think aloud. "…It's stupid, really. He wasn't even supposed to be there. It was a fluke." His voice grew very quiet. "…He wasn't supposed to be there." 

_ …Oh gods, I've done it again… Just like before…_

A haunting smell of white plums and blood filled him. The graceful strokes in a journal enlightened him. The memories dragged him into a familiar pit of despair and grief and guilt… 

Futashi blinked, coming out of his revere without quite remembering how he got there. Gathering his wits, he turned to the redhead beside him who had broken him from his thoughts. At least he thought so. Had he said something? It had sounded like…

"…sumanu…"

That. 

"Eh?" the boy asked, vanquishing the last of his heavy thoughts. "What was that?" 

Himura mumbled something again, but Futashi could only pick out a few words. 

"…didn't mean… I only wanted… sumanu…… sessha… sessha wa…"

The atmosphere had turned awkward and heavy, something Futashi hated since it was an air for miserable thoughts and recollection. It's why he bossed people around so much. If he had control over them, then he had control over the situation. If he could control the situation then… When had it slipped out of his hands? 

He suddenly knew why his sister didn't like to talk about this much. 

Himura was lost in his own mediation. 

_…Tomoe… Will it happen again…?_

It was so disgracefully similar. Inconsequentially murdering someone's beloved before coming face-to-face with them again. The left-behind bride-to-be… Even a younger brother… A stark contrast in personality, but the story… The story was… it was…

…Going to be different. 

"Hey Lackey! Snap out of it and start making sense!" Futashi ordered, hoping to put an end to this taut misery. Much to his surprise, Himura looked up and then did the most insensible thing the boy could expect. 

He smiled. 

Futashi knew the smile well as one that hid a lot of pain and sorrow. Many of people at the brothel wore it, including his own sister… 

"Girly Man?" he asked absently, hardly realizing he was still insulting even when dumbfounded. 

"Don't worry, Futashi-kun. You will have sessha's full loyalty in whatever matters you need me in." 

The young boy blinked. "'Sessha'?" he echoed. 

"We'll finish our discussion later," the redhead continued, paying no heed to the kid's confusion. "Until then, sessha would like to do something that might require_ you_ protecting _me_." 

Intrigue overcoming his lost thoughts, Futashi looked up as the swordsman began to walk down to the bank. "And what's that?" he called. 

Casting a glance behind him that would later be known by future peers as his "rurouni-grin," Kenshin replied, "I'm going to play with the children." 

The phrase, "Dead man walking," came to mind, but Futashi could only stare. 

----------

"Did we all have fun today?" Nikko asked the children as the small group made their way home. A chorus of positive responses answered her. 

"Himura-niichan played with us!" one of the girls happily piped. 

"I saw," Nikko replied with a slight smile. 

"He's really funny," another little daughter remarked. "He was walking all funny and waving his hands in the air and going 'ororororo!'" Asuka laughed at the imitation. 

"I think that's because you all tripped him," Nikko reasoned, her own amusement peeking through despite her mature resolution. 

To which Futashi added, "Yeah, right into the river," while sneering back at the red haired man who was still soaking despite his efforts to wring the water out of his clothes. The boy then laughed, "What a clutz." 

Himura merely dripped back at him. 

"Make sure you change when we get back, Himura," Nikko admonished. "You'll catch a cold if you stay in those wet clothes." 

"I'll be alright de gozaru," the young man replied, the small grin that had been glued to his face all afternoon still hanging there. "Thank you for worrying about sessha's health." 

For a moment the woman could only stare back at him, sensing something had changed, but unsure if it was more in him or herself. At last she turned away with her nose in the air. "Humph, I'm not as worried about you as I am for the children. Do you honestly think I have time to be looking after seven ill kids? I'm going to have enough trouble dealing with my own!" 

"And we love you too, oneesan," her brother deadpanned. 

"Nothing personal, Futashi-kun." 

"Sou de gozaru ka," the redhead sighed. "Well, sessha will be happy just getting out of these clothes, period." He picked at the yellow and purple pattern distastefully. "_Nothing_ could be worse than this." 

"As much as I agree with that," Asuka interjected, "you don't really have anything much better. That blue gi of yours has definitely seen better days." 

"How did you know I had--" He recalled their conversation and Asuka's reported "investigation" from that morning. "Oh. Right." He shrugged in good nature. "Well, sessha doesn't really own anything else." 

"Maybe we can fix that…" the brothel girl pondered aloud. "We could probably use… Obaga-san!" 

Himura winced. "I_ really_ don't think we should be asking for his fashion sense." 

"No, no, I mean there! He's over there!" 

Asuka pointed down an empty alleyway they were passing, only it wasn't quite empty. Everyone stopped to peer in, following her gaze down towards the end of the narrow passage just in time to witness a familiar orange gi clad figure disappear behind a wooden fence. This might not've been so suspicious had the old samurai entered through a gate, but instead, he had slipped in through a loose board. …Plus the casual glances he cast about were just a little too casual to be… well, casual. Himura wondered why the elder didn't just save himself some trouble by carrying a large sign that said, "I am snooping around, so please just ignore me!" 

Suddenly he was pushed forward from behind. 

"Oro!" he yelped, skipping on one foot for a second before regaining his balance and turning back around to see who it was that had pitched him. "Asuka-dono?" 

"Go! Follow!" she hissed quietly, even though they were well out of Nuhiro's hearing range. Heck, they hadn't even really been in his line of vision. 

"But… I'm supposed to be watching over all of you de gozaru. Yuiishi-dono-"

"Isn't here!" the young lady insisted. "Look, this is the perfect chance for us to find out what's going on! Just go take a quick peek and find out what he's up to." 

"But…"

"Don't worry about the others, I'll keep an eye on them." 

"But…"

"No more buts, except for yours which I want to see hustling over there before I kick it!" 

"…Oro…"

Futashi looked up at his older sibling. "I think that's your influence on her, oneesan." 

"Oh hush." 

Himura looked back at the fence Obaga had crept behind, then back at the group. At last he sighed. "Nikko-dono," he said, "what would you have sessha do?" 

The woman blinked, not expecting to be put in charge of the situation so suddenly. She glanced over at Asuka for assistance. …Then realized_ that _was a stupid idea since the girl was on a one-track mindset right now. No logical opinion there. 

A tug on her sleeve made her looked down at her younger brother, and the demeanor on his face mildly surprised her. The boy was giving her an approving, silent nod, a strange notion of confidence in his eyes. 

Well that made up her mind. Gods knew she trusted no one more than her own blood. And with that, she gave him her permission…

"Oh just go look already. It'll get Asuka-chan here to stop all of her nagging at least." 

"Hey!" 

…Without making it look like she cared, of course. 

"Meanie," the brothel girl pouted. 

"Alright, sessha will go on one other condition." He looked pointedly at the assembly. "You must all go home immediately. Yuiishi-dono put you in my charge and I plan to make sure I know where you are or where you're going de gozaru." 

"Fine," Asuka agreed. "But you give a full report when you get back, got it?" 

Flinching a little under her piercing gaze he conceded with a simple, "Hai, hai." 

"Come along, children," Nikko chimed, herding the youngsters towards home. Asuka did likewise and Himura watched them briefly before darting down the alleyway. Seeing he was out of sight, Asuka quickly turned towards the eldest boy. 

"Go follow him, Futashi-kun," she hushed. "I want to make sure he'd not in on this as well and not telling us." 

"Un!" the boy agreed, turning around to run back and falling flat on his face in the process. Spitting dirt, he found his sister looming over him. 

"Just what do you're doing?" she asked in a sweet tone that dripped poison. 

"Um… obeying Asuka-san?" 

"You sure know how to pass the buck, kid," came a responsive mutter. 

"Asuka, I don't want you encouraging my brother like this," the sister growled. 

"It's just for reassurance! What if those two men are in on something together and Himura's just playing the fool? …Well, Obaga is too I guess, but you know what I mean! We don't_ really_ know who they are, you know. What if we can't really trust them to tell the truth?" 

"Oh gee, that makes me feel _tons_ better about sending my brother to go spy on them," Nikko sarcastically quipped. 

"We can't send one of the younger ones, and besides, he can take care of himself best!" 

"Still not feeling better about this," she cynically sing-songed. 

Asuka exhaled in irritation. "Look, I'm just saying that if we can't trust them, then we need to-"

"You can trust Himura." 

Both women balked in their squabbling to look over at Futashi, who had spoke. He gazed back at them assuredly and repeated himself. (The way they were staring at him let him know that they needed to hear that again.) 

"You can trust Himura," he stated firmly. 

"How do you know?" Nikko questioned skeptically. 

"I just know. …Trust me." 

A lot of staring followed, most of it directed at the boy who stood before them. And for once, Nikko couldn't think of anything to counter with. The confidence in her brother's eyes seemed to say so much more than she ever could. 

So naturally she waved off the matter with nonchalance. Bowing her head with a sigh she brushed him along. "Alright, go. But you'd better be careful, otherwise I'll box your ears in for this stupidity." 

A broad grin quickly spread across his face. "Yosh!" he exclaimed, already running off. "Don't worry oneesan! I'll be extra-"

Trip. (*Wham*)

"Futashi-kun fell over into a wall!" one of the little girls giggled, apparently oblivious to the dealings of a thing called Pain. Those of similar innocence chortled along with her. 

"..I… okie-dokie…" Futashi mumbled incoherently, picking himself up and continuing on his way. "...I be… extra careful…de gozaru…"

"…Maybe one of the other kids would have been better," Asuka mused. A large bead of sweat rolled down the back of Nikko's head, however, her thoughts soon turned to another matter. 

Himura. 

Futashi had actually used the man's name. What's more, he truly seemed to have some amount of faith in him. …When on earth had _that_ happened?!?! 

Too quiet for anyone else to hear, she uttered, "Something changing indeed…"

----------

Stealth was something Himura secretly prided himself on. It had taken him some years to develop it, but now it came as a second nature. And he didn't mind saying that he was dang good at it either. 

While is was a skill of an assassin, there was something about going about undetected the Ishin Shishi liked. Maybe it was_ because_ he was a former assassin that he liked it. Drawing attention to himself wasn't the most profitable thing for him to do, especially with the reputation that tagged alongside him. Silence was his closest ally. 

But for some reason, remaining soundless seemed to take more effort than he was used to. He suspected it had something to do with his shirt being so frickin' loud. 

Nonetheless, he was able to slip in through the same loose board as Obaga had, noiselessly crouching inside and taking a survey of his surroundings. 

He found himself in a fairly wide yard, most of the grass having died or unable to grow on the rock-speckled dirt. Judging from all the wood and stacks of boards lining the area, he guessed this must've been the back of a lumber trader, or carpenter's base. A building, possibly the shop itself, lie on the north side of the clearing which was to his left. Even from where he stood, Himura could hear activity going on in the establishment, as he could not guess its nature. 

…Not from this distance anyhow. 

The former assassin put his skills to good use and soundlessly covered the ground between him and the structure, taking cover behind a woodpile that lie a few yards away. Now he could hear some of the murmuring going on inside. It sounded like a group of men, judging by the number of voices and various shuffling sounds he picked up. They were keeping themselves reserved, but obviously they were not expecting an eavesdropper, otherwise they would've gone to the extra precaution of hushing their voices and posting a guard. 

"…too soon to reschedule. It's too risky now," Himura could heard one say. 

A second voice refuted the first with, "That's exactly why we need action. They won't think we would…"

"They'll still be ready for us. They're already tightening the search." The first again. 

"Yes," a third agreed. "We need to relocate before we can reschedule." 

"To where?" Second. 

"Leave that to me." A new voice, commanding and deep. 

"Hai, Lord," replied the collective. 

Intrigued by mystery that underlined this piece of conversation, Himura nearly forgot the reason he'd come here in the first place. That is, until that very reason stepped out into his eyesight just as the redhead had moved forward to slid around the house. The sudden way Obaga had melted out of the shadows nearly made Himura panic (more out of fear of being caught spying than an actual start, really). How the elder had managed to stay so well hidden despite his brightly colored gi, he had no idea, but then again, he was running a similar experience…

Nuhiro's back was too him, but with the confident way the old samurai had revealed himself, there was no doubt in Himura's mind that the man had detected his presence before hand. (So much for stealth.) The redhead waited a moment for a hushed order or instruction, but the elder remained stubbornly silent. It seemed he was angry. 

Himura couldn't help but to glance to the side, feeling slightly ashamed for not obeying Obaga and Yuiishi's wishes to remain with the others. It had been his given duty after all. His instructor had every right to be mad. 

Heaving an internal sigh, Himura remained silent as he approached sullenly, yet cautiously so as not to arouse suspicion from within. At last when he was close enough, he breathed the man's name in respectful tones, intending to ask what he would have him do. 

Before he could get the question out however, it seemed that uttering the elder's name created quite an unexpected reaction. 

"ORO!" 

Time froze as Himura stared at Nuhiro in shock, who was panting heavily and looking at the younger man with wide and frantic eyes. The noise of hurried motions came from within the building, but they were temporarily ignored as the two broke out into a hushed but irate banter. 

"Don't sneak up on me like that, Himura-dono!" 

"Baka! I thought you knew I was here!" 

"How in the world was I supposed to know _that_ de gozaru ka?! You're supposed to be guarding Nikko-dono and the others!" 

"I was standing _right there_!" 

"Well gee, how could I have missed that? Oh that's right. It's because I'm not _psychic_!" 

"I'd argue with you further but we need to hide now!" 

"Right, we'll continue this after we save our hides. " 

And with that the pair dived behind the nearest stack of lumber just as the main door leading outside slid open with a dramatic flourish. Peeking out from their spot, the two swordsmen could make out about a dozen other swordsmen brandishing their blades as they leapt into the yard. 

Wood was the only thing that met their eyes. 

"Well I feel stupid," one remarked after seeing no enemy in sight. 

"I wasted a perfectly good battle cry for nothing," another agreed. 

"Will you two idiots shut up," one of the men growled. "Someone's gotta be out there." Turning to another he barked, "Go out the gate and check for spies! The rest of you, spread out and check the perimeter." 

"Perimeter?" 

"The yard, you dolt." 

"Oh, right." 

"It's stupid questions like that that make us exclude you from the planning," the leading man muttered. Himura noticed that the voice was too high to be their lord. That meant he must still be inside or resting near the entrance. From his current vantage point, which consisted of the wedged space between a stack of boards and the fence (currently shared with Nuhiro), he couldn't confirm anything on the situation. …Other than it wasn't good. 

A pair of these men, whomever they were, were approaching their position while doing a decent sweep of the grounds. Himura still had no idea who they were, what they were doing, and why Obaga had been stalking them. But something told him if they were caught, the consequences wouldn't result in a pleasant invitation to tea. 

He didn't want to ask if it could get any worse, afraid that it actually would. 

…The challenge was taken anyway. 

"Intruder found!" the henchmen that had been charged to check outside the gate announced, pulling in tow his captive who was squirming viscously. 

"Lemme go ya big jerk!" 

Himura tensed, eyes widening as his sweat turned cold. _That voice. It can't be…_

"It's just a little runt," one of the other men laughed. 

"Stupid kid! Made us all panic for nothing." 

Daring to peek out just enough to observe the action, Himura found that indeed, there struggling in the arms of one of the swordsmen was Futashi. He realized the boy must've followed him and cursed the ill luck of it all. Beside him, Obaga was looking equally perturbed, both unable to decide how they could help in their current situation. 

"I'm not a runt!" Futashi bellowed. "I'll show you!" 

In a feat Himura wasn't sure if he'd call daring or stupid, Futashi turned around and swiftly kicked the man holding him in an area that let the redhead know he'd have to talk to the boy later about fair fights. Using the opponent's stunned state, Futashi managed to twist out of his grip, punching the man's nose while stepping back to gain some distance. The brute fell to his knees, bellowing his pain with curses. If it weren't for the other nine men closing in on the kid, Himura would have had to admit that the little guy wasn't bad. 

"Okay brat, playtime's over!" the commander yelled. 

"Yeah!" another agreed. "Now it's beat-you-up time!" 

A pause. 

"Koeji, you don't get to talk anymore." 

"Aw." 

Seeing the boy lose his ground, Himura immediately turned back towards Obaga. 

"So what does your training say we do_ now_?" he hissed. 

The mustached samurai bowed his head in momentary pondering before snapping it back up with a focused gaze. He propped his sword out in a signal for the offensive, encouraging his companion to do the same. 

"Where The Oro can't save you, a good round of smackdown can." 

"At last," Himura said with a grin that wasn't entirely rurouni-like, "a lesson I like." 

The attack came with almost no warning…

…Hence why the two hiding men barely avoided it. 

Their small conversation had just been loud enough to catch the attention of one of the closer guards, who quickly discovered their position and cleaved a good amount of their cover away. Dashing in opposite directions, their evasion was nothing less than skilled. Their landing on the other hand could've used some work. 

There was a twin cry of, "Oro!" as Nuhiro nearly broke his neck tripping off a log and when Himura somehow missed the "low bridge" from a board jutting out of its pile. The dramatic part of their entrance was lost, but at least it drew enough attention away from the kid. 

"Futashi-kun!" Himura said, rubbing away some of the pain in his head. (With a bit of distain he thought how Obaga was right; he _was_ a natural.) "Daijoubu ka?" 

"Girly Man?" 

"Intruders! Quick, surround them!" 

"Help!" the boy shouted. "I'm gonna die!" 

"Don't worry, Futashi-kun. Sessha and Obaga-san are here to help you de gozaru." 

"That's _why_ I'm crying for help." 

The redhead frowned. "…No respect these days…"

A swordsman stopped in front of Himura, pointing his blade at his throat. "You," he said darkly, "are going to suffer a death that will involve much… uh, dying." 

The entire group stared at the man. 

At last the one that seemed to currently be leading them cleared his throat. "Koeji, for the last time… Stop. _Talking! _" 

"Sorry," he pouted. 

The circle of foes tightened, narrowing the possibility of a non-violent escape. Obaga had managed to find his way over to his pupil, and they were currently holding ground back-to-back. Himura wasn't in any way worried. These men would be no trouble taking out, and he knew well enough that the older man behind him could take care of himself. But… the samurai seemed to be hesitant in starting a fight. 

"Obaga-san?" he asked. 

Nuhiro cast a glance back at the red haired youth and opened his mouth to say something, but whatever words he was going to speak never got said as a new voice filled the air. 

"What are you all waiting for? Are you going to kill them or should I?" 

Himura recognized with a start the deeper sound of the voice he'd heard earlier. The voice of their lord…

Turning towards the direction of the doorway to the building, he saw a broad man standing there, short black hair slicked back, a katana and wakizashi hanging by his side. Possibly formidable; definitely in charge. But as to who he was, Himura didn't have the slightest…

"A-Aroji?!" Futashi sputtered, wide-eyed and slightly panicked. 

"Hn?" The wide man looked equally startled by the presence of the boy, but his surprised soon melted into a forbidding amusement. "Futashi-kun… Well, well. What a pleasant coincidence." 

Himura blinked, staring back and forth between the two but unable to think of anything to say. So Obaga said something for him. 

"This is bad de gozaru. This is _real_ bad." 

  


End of chapter thirteen.

  
  
  


Author's Notes:

*pops up out of the ground* I LIVE!!!!

Wow, I am SO sorry, minna! Not updating this story for over a month! Curse you Writer's Block! Apox an ye and yer house!

I know I said I had gotten over it, and I had! …Plotwise. The wording to some of these scenes just wouldn't come out right, and then there was one scene in particular that was just _killing_ me! I spent a good week's worth of time on it before realizing it wasn't really important to the plot, so I got rid of it entirely. Things went a lot smoother from there. (Yay!) 

After writing this chapter, I realized, "Hey, this could be _two_ chapters!" I considered breaking it up so I'd be able to update later this week for sure, but in the end I decided that you have all waited much too long, and to reward your patience, I'd give you the extra long chapter! 

Hmm… funny how I also reward you with a cliffhanger… *dodges flames*

Nikko's past, the developing bond between Kenshin and Futashi, "sessha," and Obaga's whereabouts all done up into one chapter! Whoo, as you can see, this was the plot turner, ne? Hope I didn't overload anyone. More to come! Those of you who wanted action, you're getting it!

Until then (which hopefully will not be nearly as long as this past time), ja ne!

  
  



	14. Exposure

Disclaimer: Watsuki-sama owns our beloved rurouni, not me. ...And I don't know whether to hate or worship him for that.

**A Rurouni's Guide to Idiocy**

Chapter Fourteen

  


Himura looked at the situation before him.

…Yup, still surrounded. 

Seeing that nothing had changed, and didn't look like it was going to change until the lord or commander gave the signal, he merely held his ground and watched the pleasantries pass between Futashi and the man known as Aroji.

"What are _you_ doing here, Beef-head?!" Trust the boy to start out the formalities.

"Now, now Futashi-kun, is that anyway to greet me after finally meeting after all this time?"

Futashi agreed that it wasn't. So he apologized and rephrased his welcome. …It was certainly more colorful the second time around.

Aroji merely laughed in a way that seemed a few beats off from good-natured. "You always did have a temperament, brat. So did your sister if I recall… A feisty filly of a girl. Where is she, by the way? Since you're here she can't be too far behind…"

"YOU STAY AWAY FROM HER!!!" The sudden force of his words made everyone briefly jump. It was shocking hearing such volume come from such a small body. Himura wondered if Aroji would just laugh again, but watching the man's face darken, humor was the last thing on his mind.

"Watch your tongue, boy." Amusement had been replaced with a forbidding displeasure, his deep voice rumbling dangerously. "No one tells me to keep away from what's mine. My property is my own, and _no one_ else will keep me from it, or keep it from me." As he spoke he slowly drew out his katana, catching a stray light which illuminated the blade maliciously. "I should kill you both for running away, you know. Or at the very least, teach you a lesson using your own blood for a visual aid. Think the scars I leave you with will serve as a helpful reminder?"

In his mind, Kenshin had drawn an imaginary line. …This man had just crossed it.

"I won't even allow you to scratch that boy."

If Doom had a voice, Himura was doing one heck of an impression. 

Aroji paused in his forward strut to turn his head to the side, looking upon the redhead as though just noticing him there. The two locked eye contact, dark brown orbs glaring back at… What was that color? It looked like violet with something golden flickering behind it… 

Suddenly the broader man grinned, his smug amusement returning. "You have red hair," he pointed out.

"Aa."

"And a cross-shaped scar."

"…Aa."

"Interesting."

Most of the other men blinked, uncomprehending. Then one of the dumber ones actually spoke.

"I've got a birthmark that some people say look like a five-yen coin. Is that interesting too? Um, probably shouldn't tell you where it is though…"

The men gave him a wide berth.

"Kunhori," Aroji barked, and the commander weakly stepped up to his side. "Who hired that man?"

"Er, well, nobody really." He grew pale under the dark glare he received. "W-we're radicals, Lord!" he hastily explain. "We work on more of a volunteer system."

Aroji sighed irritably. "I knew I should've organized a union… Is he any good?" he inquired of his second-in-command.

"Yes, Lord. Very. Our best in combat skills. If you can manage to ignore anything he says, he's quite handy."

"Humph, we'll see." He whipped his head over to the man of their topic. "You there!"

"Koeji, Lord," Kunhori supplied.

"Koeji! Take out the men."

Himura didn't know what to expect of this opponent, but if he was their best soldier, it was probably wise not to take him too lightly. Beside him, Obaga subtly popped the blade from his sheath. Apparently any reluctance he had before was gone now. That was good. Now Himura felt better about getting down to business. Focusing back on their opponent, the two men found Koeji still standing where he was before. …Scratching his head and looking about him in confusion.

Himura may not have known what to expect from him, but the gestures weren't helping his attempt to take the man seriously. Neither is what he said next.

"But I thought we were all fighting together," the guard observed. "Why should I take out all the men?"

There was a collective, "…" and their leaders looked like they didn't know who they wanted to put out of their misery more; Koeji or themselves. 

"Those two men over there!" Kunhori bellowed, saving his lord the trouble and pointing accusingly at their intruders. "Just those two! Go! Kill! Now!"

"Well why didn't you just say so in the first place?" The commander's frustrated scream was lost in the battle cry that then pierced the air.

_He's good_, the former hitokri had to admit after dodging a well-executed series of attacks that left little opening and kept him on the defensive. 

He noted that Obaga was standing back, keeping an eye out for any interference from the outside and letting him take care of the thug. In the back of his mind, Himura supposed this was additional training to his sword technique. He'd re-learned where to strike his foes down due to his weapon now being a sakabatou, but the force behind his swing had yet to be fully perfected. It was one of the reasons he kept the blade sheathed now.

The other reason being because his favorite defensive strike required it.

Hey, one never found out unless they tried after all.

Himura jumped back a considerable distance for the sake of insuring time. Gauging his opponent one last time, he silently slid back into position, sakabatou propped, and his right hand hovering motionlessly above the hilt. He would've had to guess that his eyes even momentarily flashed amber as this poor sap's last warning to back off, but Koeji charged firmly on.

_Oh well. It's his own funeral, after all_, Himura thought before immediately reprimanding himself, reminding his inner-soldier that they didn't do funerals anymore.

The guard leapt forward, brandished sword gleaming down upon him. 

Traction on the other hand…

There was a shout. A click. A clang. A sneeze. …But that one wasn't really important.

In the end, Koeji stood as much chance against Hiten Mitsurugi as a cockroach did against the bottom side of somebody's sandal.

A tense silence ran throughout the group after Koeji hit the ground. Some in anger of the challenge, some in slight fear of the young man's power, and some were just coining the phrase, "Duh…." Futashi belonged to the group of the latter sort himself.

Then two sounds broke through the air. The first was the finishing click as Himura placed his blade back in its scabbard, topping the intimidation off with a piercing glare that welcomed any other opposition. 

The second was a steady clap.

"Excellent," Aroji remarked through a grin that was full of anything but good intentions. 

"I should have known to expect nothing less from you."

His remaining men didn't know whether to join in their lord's arrogance or stand in awe that he wasn't the least bit phased that their top man had been taken down so easily. Caught in indecision, they at last chose to go with the safe state of stupor. 

Himura watched as Aroji stepped a bit closer to Futashi, and his hand immediately tightened its grip on his sakabatou. However, upon looking at the boy's face and seeing the absolute shock there, he suddenly felt a bit sheepish. …And a bit afraid. This man obviously knew who he was, and it seemed that in a few moments… Futashi would as well.

Remembering his manners upon sight of the young boy, Himura addressed the man in charge once more. "Sessha does not wish to fight you or your men de gozaru. Let him go and there won't be any trouble."

Aroji didn't answer. Instead, he leaned down to talk to the boy. 

"Futashi-kun, do you know what kind of technique that was?"

Up to this point, the kid had been slack-jawed and bug-eyed over witnessing Himura going from Captain Clumsy to King Booya. The sound of Aroji's scratchy voice however was enough to snap him back to reality.

"W-what?" he asked, startled to suddenly find the despised man so close to him.

"Battoujutsu." The lord of these radicals carried on, speaking to Futashi but never losing eye-contact with the young swordsman in subject.

"Battoujutsu?" Futashi echoed absently, too concerned with keeping Aroji at a distance than to notice Himura's expression darken and tense.

"I admit it's my first time seeing it, and I'm quite impressed. His speed is as legendary as they say it seems. What a delightful challenge."

"What're you talking about?" the kid asked, his arrogance returning to him in the form of irritation. "Start making some--"

"And do you know _who_ is famous for their speed and form of battoujutsu?"

"Enough!" Himura half shouted, half pleaded, vainly trying to stop his secret from being unveiled. But just like bread always landing butter-side down, this too was inevitable.

"The Battousai."

And with that, things would never be the same again.

…

"…The _who_?" Futashi asked, sounding as though he'd just heard a joke and didn't quite get the punch line.

"…The Battousai!" Aroji explained, extremely annoyed that his dramatic build-up had been for nothing. "He's the legendary hitokiri for the Ishin Shishi! Their _secret assassin_. Hello? Is _anything_ clicking here?!"

"Secret… assassin?" Futashi repeated, this time with a much quieter voice and the look of realization dawning in his eyes.

…Okay, so it was with _that_, that things would never be the same again.

In a hushed, disbelieving tone, Futashi murmured, "You mean… he… he's the who…?" 

"You remember Seitaro, don't you?" Aroji stepped up behind the boy and motioned out to the sorrow-stricken redhead. "Well Futashi-kun, I'd like you to meet his killer. The Hitokiri Battousai himself."

Somehow the pleasantries failed to be exchanged.

"Well Battousai," the broad man continued, obviously over-pleased with himself in causing what was clearly a misfortune to them. "What have you to say for yourself, hm?"

Himura found there was only one thing _to_ say.

"…Are you going to let him go or not?"

Aroji blinked. "Eh?"

Taking a step forward and keeping his stance ready, the former assassin resumed his initial resolve. 

"I asked if you were going to let him go or not. If you think that your revelation has changed _my_ resolve to protect this child, then you are sadly mistaken. So then, are you going to settle this the easy way or…" The sentence was left to the imagination as Himura's blade was once again popped from its scabbard.

Apparently many of the men had good imagination, seeing as to how several stepped back a few feet. Most there were left in slight awe again as their lord once again didn't appear very phased by this fearsome threat. By the Legendary Hitokiri himself! A devil of flaming hair, seering yellow eyes, and the speed that was rumored to match the gods! The Battousai didn't need any dramatic build-up. His name alone was Fear.

…This isn't to say the mood couldn't be broken however.

"…Did… anybody get… the… name of that… vending cart…?"

The sound of a blink is an odd and perplexing sound that is often much too soft to be heard by anyone. But when a dozen people blink at once, just as the collected did while turning over to look at a recovering Koeji, it lingers as an interesting experience before being forgotten in the face of other matters. 

"He's still _alive_?!" someone squawked. 

"No way! I saw him get sliced in half!" 

"Aw man, there goes the increase on our paychecks."

Himura looked as surprised as the rest of them, resisting the urge to rub the back of his neck and mutter, "Oops," for apparently not finishing the job. It was quite embarrassing really. Kind of like claiming to the best potter in town only to realize you forgot to put the bottom in a vase; a boast that won't hold any substance. 

"Anou… I think you're still holding back too much, Himura-dono," Obaga remarked.

"No way! I made sure to not hold back _that_ much!"

"Well either that or he has an impressively thick skin!"

"…"

"…"

"Sessha's sen is on the thickness de gozaru."

"Wait, let me rephrase that…"

"It seems I've over-estimated you a bit, Battousai," Aroji cut in. "I'll still have to get rid of you however." A merciless sneer as he laid a hand on Futashi's shoulder. "Can't have any _witnesses_ now, can we?" The boy tried to move away but was held firmly in place by the broad man's firm grip. "You should be able to understand that… right?"

Several of the men stepped forward with their brandished swords. Apparently, a person wasn't found very intimidating anymore after one of their "victims" manages to stand back up.

"Duh, which way did he go, guys? Which way did he go?!"

…If a bit incoherently.

Ignoring Koeji and listening to the orders of their lord, the group prepared to close in. Kenshin found his vision was more focused on the boy in Aroji's hands rather than the tightening circle of soldiers.

"This is your last chance to let him go peacefully de gozaru!" he warned. "Leave him out of this! He's only a boy!"

"Correction. He's the boy who will help me find what is mine again." He gave another devious grin to the child. "Isn't that wonderful, Futashi-kun? We'll go see your sister and be just as happy as before."

"NO! You stay away from her!" Nikko's younger brother cried, vainly trying to pry the thick fingers pinching into his arm and shoulder. They squeezed painfully, causing him to yelp in protest. "HIMURA!"

Nobody kept track of what happened after that.

Later, most of the guards would wake up wondering how long they'd been napping. Then after trying to sit up, they'd wonder if they'd been drinking. Afterwards still, when the pain became recognized as something worse than a hangover, they'd begin to wonder what hit them. One thing was for sure however.

The intruders were gone.

…And their lord was smiling.

  


End of chapter fourteen.

  
  
  


Author's Notes:

Well, this chapter was originally supposed to be longer, with a bit more insight into Obaga's past along with news reaching the brothel. ...But I guess that'll be getting pushed to the next chapter, ne? I felt like I owed you something and didn't want to draw this out for more than a month.

Okay minna, here's the jist. The story may be getting a bit serious from time to time from here on out. This chapter was a good example of that. Due to this, I can't always fit humor into every situation because that'll ruin the seriousness of a topic.

This is not to say I'm giving up the humor and bad jokes! Not by a long shot! However, don't be surprised if I go several paragraphs long without anything light-hearted or witty to say. It's just the way the story is turning. Hmm, I might have to add another genre to the fic, but I'm not sure which one. ...Or if I really even want to. ^^; We'll see.

Sorry about these long delays between chaptes, but school is in and I'm taking classes that demand quite a bit of my time. On the plus side, I'm studying Shinkendo, so that's sweet! Got myself a bokken and all.

Man, Aroji is turning out more sadistic than I first planned him to be. Oh well. I actually like the creepy villians. They're just cool.

Well, some of you were waiting for Himura's secret to be out and here it is! ...Okay, only to Futashi so far, but we'll see what the boy does with it, okay? Again, I leave you hanging. ^^; GOMEN!!!

Thanks for sticking around this long!

  


P.S. Has anyone else noticed that this story has had several summeries so far? We'll see what it ends on, ne?

  
  



	15. Two Guys, a Girl, and a Plot Twist

Disclaimer: Don't own it.

**A Rurouni's Guide to Idiocy**

Chapter Fifteen

  


Himura was not the type to admit that he was anti-social, but he wasn't the type to deny it either. He knew that as far as light conversation went he was better off opening his ears than opening his mouth. He learned this after a few episodes that taught him that whether he talked of listened, he was on a receiving end. It was just up to him to decide what he liked to receive better. 

When he listened, he tended to get respect and insight. When he talked, he tended to get beaten and hospitalized. 

He liked listening. 

However, there did come times when something simply had to be said, regardless of what potential hazards this brought upon his health. Just because he wasn't a social man didn't mean that he was without wisdom. And when he found opportunities to share his wisdom, especially with those who needed it, he was not one to hold back. 

Consequently he was feeling very stupid right now, and for once his gi has nothing to do with it. 

The others must've been a little low on intelligence this evening too, because no one seemed ready to spout off any universal knowledge. 

After escaping the radicals' lumberyard, leaving them to sort out whose limb was whose, Kenshin, Nuhiro, and Futashi had simply begun sprinting away. Not any one of them realized they had taken out practically all of the soldiers and running really wasn't necessary. They only stopped after realizing that their blind dash towards the teahouse was just that. Only minus the "towards the teahouse" part. 

After seeing their surroundings were unfamiliar they looked at each other with glances of "Who was leading?" and "Don't look at me, I was following you!" 

Himura found he was the only one asking the former. This meant the others had been trailing him, which probably shouldn't have come as a surprise since god-like speed wasn't exactly something made for following. 

Without a word he began to lead the way back home. …Once or twice asking directions (hey, he was still new to this town!). Without words is how he led, and without words is how they followed. This might've been fine if there wasn't so much to be said. 

Himura stole glances at his companions, observing their composures and reading the emotions displayed on their faces. Obaga was clearly trying to disguise his discomfort by humming some tuneless ditty under his breath, acting as though this were a simple stroll through the back alleys. It didn't appear as though the old samurai was disgruntled with anyone, and nor should he be. He probably only felt it wasn't his business to address the tension in-between the redhead and the boy. 

Futashi. 

Casting his amythest eyes upon the kid walking between the them, it didn't take an expert swordsman or Hiten Mitsurugi master to read the young man's face. Although his head was bowed, Futashi's features were lined with evidence of inner turmoil. Had they not been in a hurry home to beat the sinking sun, Himura would've guessed the boy would have liked to simply find a corner and brood. While it was always impossible to read another's actual thoughts, Kenshin had a lot of guesses as to what they were. 

Hurt. A loss of trust. Maybe even a feeling of betrayal? It seemed that his past was doomed to catch up with him no matter how far he wandered from it or how many 'oro's he hid behind. Even if in a fool's clothes he was still the Battousai. 

Perhaps the only one he'd been fooling this entire time was himself. 

Well, it was time to fess up. An apology was hardly any good now, but maybe if offered along with his sword and his life it would find a semblance of worth…?

Himura cleared his throat, which ended up sounding a lot louder than intended when noised against the silence. Obaga's humming abruptly stopped, even though he did not turn his attention too far into the matter. He knew this wasn't for him after all. The one who it was inclined towards merely kept his head down and eyes on the road. Himura decided to take this as an opportunity to speak and forged on. 

"Futashi-kun… Sessha is--"

"The Battousai." Blinking, the redhead turned to look down at the boy, not having expected a reaction so quickly. "I know," Futashi went on, not sounding entirely concerned nor bored by the subject of revelation. "You would have denied it by now if you weren't." 

"…Sessha is sorry. I never meant to betray your trust in me." Since when could he get his voice to be that quiet? 

In the fading light Himura could see the child's shoulders slump a fraction, almost as if he'd been hoping for a different answer. Maybe a hope that he had still been wrong? 

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked in a voice that rivaled Himura's for a negative measure on the volume scale. 

"I guess… I just didn't want you to find out if you didn't have to. I genuinely meant what I said earlier. About protecting everyone, I mean. But after hearing your story… hearing about your sister's fiancé… Would you have trusted sessha knowing who he really is?" He turned to look down at him. "…Do you trust sessha now?" 

It was a question that was given no response, but that was expected. 

Kenshin sighed and after another long passage of silence, deciding it was time to address another matter. 

"Obaga-dono, please escort Futashi-kun home." 

"Nani?" the elder asked, a bit startled by the sudden request and its meaning. 

"What about you?" Futashi asked before Nuhiro could. The boy's tone sounded caught in-between suspicion and… worry? "Where are you going?" 

"We're being followed de gozaru," the red haired man answered, his eyes now visibly keeping to the corners of his vision. 

"Oro. I don't feel--" Obaga suddenly became more alert, as though something had all at once pricked his senses. He turned to his apprentice. "How do you _do_ that?" 

"Followed by who?" Futashi inquired, strangely being the only one asking the useful questions. 

Nuhiro scowled at the narration but since he couldn't do a dang thing about it, he carried on with a more intelligent point. "Where are they? How long have they been trailing us?" 

Answering in order, Himura said, "Not sure, but they're stealthy. They're keeping a distance of about 15 yards. I just picked them up soon after we started heading back." 

"I was wondering why we were taking the long way de gozaru." 

"I just thought Girly Man was lost again." 

The 19-year old frowned. "Isn't this your town? Couldn't you be the one leading the way instead of a visitor like me?" 

"I don't get out much, okay? I'm more concerned with what goes on inside the teahouse, not outside it." 

"Oro. Aren't you a little too young to know about those kinds of things?" Obaga asked. 

"Not like _that_ ya perverted old man!" 

"Anyway," Himura coughed, bringing the topic back around. "Sessha would like you to get Futashi-kun home safely, Obaga-dono. I will see if I can't draw off our pursuer." 

"It might be dangerous," the older samurai warned. Himura cast him a look. "…Okay, so that was stating the obvious. I'm just saying keep your guard up." 

"I can hardly remember the last time it was down," the redhead muttered. 

"Need I remind you of a certain laundry incident de gozaru ka?" 

"…I hate you." 

"I was just saying…"

"What laundry incident?" Futashi asked curiously. 

"Can we just carry this plan out already?" Himura pleaded, not caring to relive the details or enter a flashback scene. 

"Maa," Obaga soothed before motioning for their youngest group member to follow. "Come on, Futashi-kun. Your sister is going to be very worried when we get back de gozaru." 

"But…" The child cast an uncertain look towards the man known as the Battousai. "What about…?"

"Don't worry about Himura-dono. He can take care of himself as I'm sure you've seen." 

"Yeah, I saw…" came the whispered answer. Feeling the old pangs of guilt, Kenshin made a sudden decision. 

"Tell them, Futashi-kun." 

"Eh?" 

"You should tell Nikko-dono and Yuiishi-dono about that man, Aroji, who is apparently after you and your sister. I do not know the past you hold with him, but he will obviously not be doing you a service if he finds you. It might be best to let your sister know all of this so that she may be prepared for any emotional confrontation. As for a physical confrontation…" He gripped his sword. "Sessha has sworn to help you protect you and your loved ones de gozaru. No harm will come to her or any of the others. I promise." 

For a moment Futashi looked caught in indecision, as though he wanted to ask or say something buy didn't know how to. At last he gave up with a sigh and nodded. 

"…I know you will, Himura." 

Nuhiro turned towards their destination and smiled. "Come Futashi-kun. We should hurry before it gets too dark." 

"Alright." 

The former hitokiri watched their forms disappear into the night, noticing how Futashi kept stealing glances back as though he were unsure if this was a wise decision. Himura sighed at that. It seemed it would take a bit of doing to regain the boy's full trust again, but at least there was enough left to build upon. He only hoped he would not prove a disappointment. 

Purposefully heading in an opposite direction, Himura was pleased to note that their pursuer had chosen to keep an eye on him rather than the other two. Not a bad tactic either. Had they chosen to ignore him, he simply would've found that he would have to track _them_ down instead. This way was much more preferable. Now, to see how long they could keep up…

Suddenly taking off in a zig-zag pattern through the back alleys, Himura sensed the other give a hasty chase and was unable to suppress a slight smirk. The game of Cat and Mouse was on. 

…It was amusing how his pursuer thought he was the Cat. 

-----------

"He's going to kill him, isn't he." 

"Oro?" Obaga looked down at the child in surprise. "What makes you say that, Futashi-kun?" 

"What do you mean?" the boy asked in return, his tone suggesting he was answering a silly question. "He's the Hitokiri Battousai!" 

"Er, didn't you just find out what that _was_ less than an hour ago de gozaru ka?" 

"Well, yeah, but… That doesn't matter now! The point is I know what that is and I know it's what he is too. So tell me, he's going to kill the guy following us, isn't he." 

The elder smiled warmly, as if he'd just heard an amusing tale. "You don't seem to be asking me as much as you seem to be telling me, Futashi-kun." The boy had no answer to this. "If you are so sure he will, then why are you asking?" 

"Because I… I just wanna know for sure." He sighed irritably to hide the nervousness in his voice. "I mean, how am I supposed to know if I still _can_ trust him? Knowing who he is and knowing he lied to me about it." 

"Did Himura-dono ever deny being a hitokiri?" 

"Well… no, not exactly," Futashi mumbled, casting his memory back and finding no spoken untruth. "But he didn't tell us who he was either, and that might as well be the same thing!" 

Nuhiro chuckled, something Futashi found annoyingly inappropriate. "If not telling strangers our pasts makes us liars, Futashi-kun, then the world is full of thieves and scoundrels. You yourself would be guilty of that sin de gozaru." 

"What's that supposed to mean?" the child growled unhappily, never liking it when he missed out on something; especially when it sounded like something he was at the butt of. 

"Did you tell either Himura-dono or I about your past when we first came?" 

"No, but Himura was never _gonna_ tell us his past, was he?" 

"Were you?" 

"…Well… no. But his past could put us in danger!" 

"And whose past is it that has us in our current danger?" 

"Er, well, that's not our fault! Besides, our past is our business!" Obaga cast him a look. "…Will you stop throwing my words back at me?! Stupid old man." 

"I'm just trying to help you understand de gozaru," the samurai answered collectively. "You shouldn't judge someone on how they hide their past as much as on how they live their present and future." 

"But…"

"Himura-dono has a past of a darker man, yes," he continued, "and the reputation of it does pose dangers. However, I would hope to assure you that he has never and will never intend for it to bring sorrow or burden upon others. It is one of the reasons he lives the lifestyle he has chosen de gozaru." 

Futashi walked in silence for a moment before whispering, "And that makes it okay?" 

"Let me ask you something. Does that make him a bad person?" 

Again there was no reply. 

Nuhiro sighed softly. He knew this wouldn't be easy considering the mistrust this kid's path had engraved in him, but it seemed further steps had to be taken. This meant only one thing. 

Time for a story. 

"There once was an apprentice to a certain kendo school who was very good friends with his master and his family. The apprentice trained quite diligently and soon achieved mastery level himself. There were some very happy times." 

Futashi blinked when the samurai had begun the tale, wondering when he had stepped into "Story Hour with Obaga." Regardless to its randomness, Futashi inclined himself to listen. 

"Then one day, there began to be a few political contentions in the city. Some mysterious black ships that had showed up off the nation's coast had created quite a stir among the people, and many were speaking of changing old ways. The apprentice, being younger and more arrogant than his wise master was drawn to the talk of new ways. He began to try to convince his master that their school should provide its teachings to potential soldiers. The apprentice knew this would go against some of the principles of the school, but he also believed it would be for a greater cause and justify his reasons. The master, however, did not agree. 

"Again and again, the apprentice tried to convince his master, but this only made him grow more wroth with the apprentice. In turn, the apprentice was becoming more impatient with his master and less respectful; he even began to call his master an old fool for refusing to give up old traditions. 

"Then one night, the two had an argument that turned violent, and the apprentice slew his own master for the sake of his pride. Almost immediately the apprentice realized what he had done and immediately felt ashamed. In a panic, he hastily fled from the dojo and the city, lamenting his foolishness." 

"Wait," Futashi interrupted, sounding confused by something. "Why didn't the apprentice just quit the school and go off himself to do something about it? He was a master, wasn't he? Couldn't he have taught the school techniques himself?" 

"He could have," Obaga nodded. "However, his lingering faith for his master had kept him from doing so. But by the time he had lost even that, the apprentice's anger was fueled only by his pride and he had become blinded by it, desiring only for his master to join the ranks of impending reformation so that his ego might not be wounded by error." 

"So why didn't the master just give in?" 

"Because he was stronger." 

"Wait, I thought you said he got killed." 

The elder smiled. "Not that kind of strength, Futashi-kun. The master had a strength in his mind and heart that the apprentice could not hope to surpass. …Although he tries every now and then." After a chuckle he continued, "You see Futashi-kun, the best way to measure a man is by that type of strength-the one that lies in the heart." He pointed to his left breast for emphasis. "A man's soul is what makes him "good" or "bad;" not his past. A past will always be good or bad or even both, but the most inner desires of a person must be your judgment on present character, because it is desire that drives us. 

"Look past the shadows of a past, Futashi-kun, and look upon the strength of the heart." 

"Old man…"

Futashi looked up at Obaga with a face of dawning realization. Nuhiro couldn't help but nod in understanding at the boy's awe in his wisdom. 

"…That is the _sappiest_ piece of crap I've ever heard!" 

"Oro!" 

"Jeez," the boy continued, shaking off his discomfort. "The only thing this mushy moment is missing is the part where I begin go all wide-eyed and start going, 'You're right! Himura's not such a bad guy after all! Gosh, let's give him a second shot!'" Futashi had bared his upper teeth and crossed his eyes to punctuate his point. "That isn't happening by the way." 

"Must you mock everything people give you?" Obaga asked, a bead of sweat running down his cheek. "I was only trying to help de gozaru." 

"I know," the boy said almost apologetically. Almost. "But you don't understand what my sister and I have been through either! I'm supposed to put _our_ past and feelings aside just because someone else had a bad day? It's not that easy. Nothing is." 

Futashi scrunched his eyebrows together in confusion, once again unable to understand why this man would pick now of all times to throw out a grin. But on a second glance, Futashi realized it was the kind of smile he was very familiar with. The one he had seen Himura wear earlier that day. 

"You're quite right, but I'm sure Himura-dono realized this as well when he entrusted his reputation into your hands. He understands what you can do with his name as you tell the others." Obaga stopped to look at the path before them. "He asked for no excuse and no secrets to be kept. A part of his fate here is in your hands now, Futashi-kun." 

The boy stopped alongside the old samurai, following his gaze and turning to find that they were now standing in front of the back gate to the brothel. Futashi couldn't remember it looking as big as it did just then; as though the weight of his responsibility were messing with his perspective. 

"Hey old man," he asked in a tone of afterthought. "Whatever happened to the apprentice in your story?" 

There was a small pause as night fell ("Ouchie," it then muttered after picking itself back up. _A/N: Sorry, but ** love** that joke! _) At last Obaga's voice drifted to him through the darkness. 

"He wandered Japan for along time, reflecting upon his mistakes and weaknesses, trying to help and protect others. One day, he came across a murderer that was just as unhappy with life and the apprentice remembered being. The apprentice could see that the murderer was really a good man, so he decided to help him. Later, the two of them came across some people who were in trouble. One of these people was a young mother, the other was a young but very brave boy who wanted to protect his sister very much." Futashi's eyes visibly widened. "The apprentice wanted to help these people very much." 

"…Why?" Nikko's brother asked in breathless tone. Nuhiro's brown eyes crinkled warmly. 

"They reminded the apprentice of the wife and son of his late-master. The son was about the same age of the boy the apprentice wanted to help when he had left. And the apprentice feels that if he somehow helps this new boy, it will be like an atonement for the pain he caused his master's son." 

"…Does the murderer want to help too?" 

"Very much, although the apprentice can't tell the exact reasons why. However, the murderer is trying to repent for past sins too. That is why these two men want to help the boy and his family, and protect them from whatever is trying to hurt them." Neither one noticed their speech had changed to the present tense, and yet they still knew. 

"So what happens?" the younger inquired. 

Opening the door, the apprentice answered, "I guess we'll find out, ne?" 

Nodding, the boy stepped inside. 

-----------

"Futashi-kun!" Nikko cried as soon as she spotted her brother, setting the pattern she was sewing beside her lantern. It was obvious she had been waiting worriedly. One doesn't normally sew out on the porch after all. "Where on earth have you been?! Do you realize how late it is or how long you've been out? I nearly throttled Asuka for ever letting me let you--"

"Oneechan," her brother interrupted sharply, quickly silencing her babble. "Oneechan," he continued more softly, "please go and wait in Yuiishi-sama's private tearoom. I will find Yuiishi-sama." He turned to leave. 

"What's wrong." For such an obvious demand, Nikko's voice was unnervingly reserved. 

"It's _him_, oneechan." Nikko visibly paled, and as her brother continued she began to tremble. "He's here. And he knows we're here too." 

-----------

Himura slipped in through the gates sometime well past 9 in the evening. It had taken him longer than he'd desired to shake off the spy, but much to his relief it had ended without violence. Before resorting to a direct confrontation, Himura had decided to drop a few "hints" that he was well aware that he was being watched and followed. After a short while the spy got the hint that if his pursuit didn't stop, a whoopin' would commence. He left soon after. The entire situation had taken all but 40 minutes. 

That was three hours ago. He'd spent the rest of his time wandering aimlessly through the streets, realizing with some dismay (and a lot of embarrassment) that he'd gotten himself lost again. 

After peeking his head into a bar open late, he'd gotten directions to the brothel along with some unnecessary winks, elbow nudges, and tips on how to… Well, never mind what the tips were for. He was quite thankful to be out of there. He didn't think his cheeks could've taken the blood rush had he stayed. 

Because it was so late when he arrived back, he didn't really expect anyone to be awake. At least not anybody who wasn't working that is. Much to his surprise however, as he passed the back of the brothel on his way to his room (a.k.a. the laundry bin), Asuka opened up one of the shouji doors and waved him over. 

"What're you doing up so late, Asuka-dono?" Himura asked as he stepped up to her. 

"Are you kidding?" she asked irritably. "Hardly any of us can sleep!" 

"Oro," he blushed. "Asuka-dono, if I wanted to know how well business was going, I would've asked de gozaru." 

"Not because of _that_, hentai!" she hissed. "Nikko-chan's in an awful shock and it has everyone upset. Yuiishi-sama is worried about her health and that the stress may not be good for the baby." 

"Sessha is not a hentai! Sessha just thought you said…" Realization sank in. "…Did Futashi-kun talk to her?" 

"Yeah, as soon as he came home. Gathered up Nikko-chan, Yuiishi-sama, Obaga-san, and me." Himura gave her a look. "Okay, okay so I eavesdropped! But I'd already heard enough by the time they found me so I stuck around to hear the rest." 

The former-assassin lowered his head. "So you know…"

"Practically everyone in the brothel does," she answered solemnly. 

A strong feeling of shame and guilt swept over him as he struggled to gulp down the nervous lump in his throat and voice his humility. "…Sessha is…" He swallowed. "Sessha cannot express his sorrow and apology to you or the others, Asuka-dono. If I could change the past I would, but that is something beyond even my capability. But I promise you now that I will do everything I can to--"

"What in the _world_ are you babbling on about?" the young woman interrupted. Blinking, Himura looked up to see Asuka staring at him as though he'd grown spots. As she waited for an explanation, his mind scrambled to provide one. 

"…Oro?" he at last presented, effectively killing off the drama. 

"What was all that about an apology and changing the past? …Are you _sorry_ you saved Futashi-kun? Look, I know the kid can be a brat sometimes, but we're all grateful that you--"

"No, no, no!" he said hastily, grasping to find his perspective in the conversation. "I mean I'm sorry about not telling you." 

"Telling us what?" 

Himura began to wonder if Asuka was playing dumb or if she perhaps eavesdropped sometime _after_ a certain revelation. Just to make sure, he prodded, "About who I am." 

"Oh!" Asuka replied, her voice rising as though she had just remembered something. Being a fearsome ex-killer was certainly something Himura was sure a person didn't forget easily, but… "You mean about how you're really a kick-butt swordsman? Er, or so Futashi said." 

"Oro? Kick-butt swordsman…?" That certainly wasn't how he'd describe it. 

"Yeah, the kid already told us how you saved him and helped you guys escape by using your sword skills. I have to admit I found it hard to believe that you could be as talented as he claimed, but he was very persistent on the matter…"

A new thought slowly began to occur to Himura. "Was that…_ all_ he said about me?" 

"What? You think you deserve more praise?" 

"No, that's not it. I was just curious to know if he said… anything else about what happened or what was said. Maybe there was anything more about me de gozaru ka?" 

Asuka stared at him a good while before lowering her lids for a baleful stare. "My, aren't we fishing for compliments Mr. I'm-Not-Worthy. I knew it was an act." 

"Oro." A large bead of sweat gathered on his brow. "That's not it at all!" 

"Himura-dono?" Obaga stepped up from behind Asuka. "Ah, I see you've returned." 

"Obaga-dono…" Himura looked at the man. He cast his eyes over to Asuka. Then he looked between them both for a while. Finally he leaned in toward the woman. "Sessha is quite sure he can't pay you for anything de gozaru," he whispered. "So I wouldn't bother." 

Quickly realizing what this meant, Asuka blushed furiously. "It's not like that!" she hissed insistently. "He's too old!" 

Obaga frowned at Asuka. "I'm not _that_ old de gozaru." He then turn to assured the younger man, "There are other people in here, Himura-dono." 

"Sessha is not interested in threesomes, foursomes, or any-more-somes, thanks." 

"Will you get your mind out of the gutter?!" the woman hissed. 

_Funny thing to hear coming from a brothel girl. _

"I believe my influence has been too great on you, Himura-dono," Nuhiro mused. "Maa, forget that for now and just come inside. Yuiishi-dono has been waiting up with Futashi-kun to look after Nikko-dono." 

All other things were forgotten as Kenshin crossed the threshold and entered. "Is he alright?" he asked, allowing himself to be led by Asuka (who was still irked from the conversation, but Nikko's welfare seemed to draw more of her attention). 

"Aa. She is doing much better now de gozaru. The news seemed to shock her badly at first, but she has calmed down since then." 

Hesitantly the redhead inquired, "…Does she know that I…?"

"Saved her younger brother? Yes, she knows. …And yes, that's all she knows," he stated more quietly upon seeing Kenshin's inquisitive stare. "Futashi-kun apparently sees no reason to worry his sister further. Don't take advantage of that however, Himura-dono," he warned. 

"I know. I don't plan to." 

Asuka opened the door to a room that was further into the establishment, yet distant enough from the main hall that it held enough peace for any quiet reflection. Right now it was very quiet indeed. 

Futashi was the first to come into view since he was sitting a bit to the right, opposite of the door. He looked up sharply as the shouji opened. He didn't relax as he made eye-contact with Himura, but he didn't keep that long either. As he looked away, Himura followed his gaze. A few lanterns hung from the ceiling with one main one on the floor, illuminating Yuiishi Nanari's bright sky blue and sea green kimono which would have looked a lot more vibrant if not for the dulling yellow light. The head mistress looked distressed, and continuing on, Himura could see why. 

A bowl of water and cloth laid discarded by her, no longer wiping any feverish brow. Her chestnut bangs were tousled and wet from where the washcloth had touched her brow, and her usually spirited eyes looked dull; almost empty. What surprised Kenshin most about her was that she was kneeling upright and tall with no signs that she had once been lying down. Such a strict posture simply didn't seem to match the weary and despaired expression on her face. 

…Maybe having Futashi tell her hadn't been such a good idea after all. 

"She's looking better," Nuhiro remarked to Yuiishi as he moved to seat himself. 

_This is **better**?! _ Himura thought. _I wonder what the worse was._

"Yes, she's regained her color." 

Asuka sat on Nikko's left and gently squeezed her hand. At first there was no response, but then Nikko turned to her friend and forced a timid smile. Upon this, nearly everyone in the room relaxed, clearly finding this to be a good sign of sorts. Himura wasn't sure if he should be finding similar comfort in this or not. 

Yuiishi leaned over and asked, "How are you feeling, Dear?" 

"Better." Her voice was hoarse but strong. "Sorry for worrying you all. …Jeez, I'm pathetic, ne?" she laughed, attempting to hid her humiliation and break the tension. "Futashi-kun," she said, turning to her brother. "…I… Sorry. Guess I'm never as much help to you as I should be, huh." 

"It's okay, oneechan," was the only thing the boy could find to say without compromising another lapse. 

Another small smile as she cast her eyes down. "Thank-you all." 

There was a long, awkward moment of silence as everyone looked at each other, trying to figure out what to say and who should say it. At last Yuiishi cleared her throat and addressed the one whom had just joined them. 

"Himura," she stated, "are you aware of the current situation?" 

The redhead blinked, gathering his thoughts and trying to determine if he _knew_ he was aware of the situation. Since it was taking so long to figure that out, he assumed he didn't. "Not in it's entirety, I'm afraid." 

The mistress nodded. "Then you will need to be informed. She looked pointedly at Obaga and Asuka as well. "You will all need to be informed. I admit I have not told you everything, Obaga-san." 

"So you _were_ using him to spy on Amatomo!" Asuka declared. 

"You _knew_ about this?" Himura asked. 

"Well, no, not exactly," she sheepishly admitted. "But I suspected she was sending him out for more than just groceries. I just didn't know for what. But when I found out that you three had met up with Amatomo…"

"Amatomo?" the cross-shaped scarred swordsman echoed curiously. 

"Amatomo Aroji," Nikko answered, her voice firm with conviction; and full of spite. The strength of it brought everyone's attention upon her. "I suppose…" she reluctantly continued, "that I owe it to you all, to tell you about who it is that is seeking my brother and I." 

"Aroji," Kenshin repeated. "That was the name of the man who led those rebels…" _Amatomo… Why does that name sound familiar? _

"Do you know who he is, Nikko-dono?" Obaga inquired. 

"…Yes." 

"Oneechan--"

"It's alright, Futashi, I can do this!" she snapped. Then in a more patient voice she uttered, "…I need to do this." 

The men leaned forward to hear her better as she licked her lips in determination, while Himura couldn't help but feel he was missing something obvious. 

"Amatomo Aroji is… he's…"

_Amatomo. Wait a minute, wasn't that the family name of the man Nikko-dono was suppose to…_

"…He's my husband." 

Silence. 

_Well... Didn't see **that** one coming. _

  


End of chapter fifteen.

  
  
  


Author's Notes:

Forgot to mention in past notes to give a special thanks to my buddy Pam-chan for helping me out of my Writer's Block that I was in a while back. If she hadn't beaten me with the Inspiration Stick or shot me with the Movitation Gun, this fic might not be where it is today. Thanks!


	16. Breaking Walls

Disclaimer: "I own Rurouni Kenshin and all of its characters and have full rights to them." ...Is what I'd say if I were feeling financially suicidal. But I'm not today, so please note that I do not own Rurouni Kenshin nor its characters. Thank-you.

**A Rurouni's Guide to idiocy**

Chapter Sixteen

  


No one said anything for a long time after Nikko's confession. The woman herself seemed to have forgotten that this line of information didn't automatically enlightened everyone in the room. Yet out of polite consideration, everyone waited for Nikko to continue.

Ten minutes later, Himura was getting tired of that. 

His mind was buzzing with questions. Who exactly was this Amatomo Aroji? What was his relation to Amatomo Seitaro? How did Nikko-dono end up marrying him? He had some "where" and "why" questions too, but the narrative was sounding too announcer-like already. 

At last the young man dared to clear his throat and ask the one big question on everybody's mind.

"…_And_?"

Nikko's head shot up with a look of mild irritation before suddenly looking sheepish, as though realizing a dramatic pause had dragged out too long. "And… I'm married to him."

A pause.

"Er, I think we figured that out when you said he was your husband de gozaru," Obaga politely coughed.

"Oh. …Right."

Kenshin tilted his head to the side, pondering on Nikko's new behavior. The young woman was acting more reserved, demure, and courteous. It was completely different from the Nikko he'd gotten to know over the past few days. …Not that he'd ever _tell_ her that. She seemed to flounder as she grasped for words, clearly not knowing where to start. He decided to give her some simple advice.

"Why don't you start from the beginning, Nikko-dono? Tell us exactly your first association with this Aroji fellow."

The mother-to-be considered this for a moment before nodding her head in agreement. "Alright," she said quietly. "It probably really began sometime ago. Just before the chaos of the Bakumatsu reached our old hometown…"

----------- "Hold it, hold it!" Himura suddenly yelled.

Everyone stopped and stared, shocked, at him.

"Look, we've managed to get this far through the story without an actual flashback, okay? Can't we just keep it that way?" he asked.

After the jaws finally picked themselves up, the eyes rolled.

"Well there go any chances of keeping within the Fourth Wall _this_ fic."

"Really Himura-dono, was that necessary?"

"Well we've been keeping it to monologue introspective thus far. I just don't see why we can't keep it like that."

"Will somebody please smack the writer?"

-----------

Elsewhere, a writer was thoroughly smacked. After much apologies, and the reconstruction of one said Fourth Wall, half a dozen memories were selectively erased.

The story continued.

-----------

Six people blinked.

"Er… what were we just talking about de gozaru ka?" Nuhiro inquired first.

Blessed with sudden knowledge, Asuka replied, "Nikko-chan was about to finally reveal to everyone her mysterious past and clear up any lingering questions and misunderstandings in a heart-felt and well-explaining monologue."

Another pause.

"…Well she was."

"Right," Nikko said, a spark of her spirited determination poking through, although it was still significantly dampened by her softer tones. "From the beginning, right Himura?" Kenshin nodded. "Alright. It probably really began sometime ago. Just before the chaos of the Bakumatsu reached our old hometown…" She stopped and patiently waited for everyone to shake off the déjà vu (onto the nice conditioned floors) before continuing. "Futashi and I lived with my parents, my father being of a locally high-respected samurai family. He was a close friend with the second highly respected family in town-the Amatomo family.

"I was my father's only daughter, so he naturally sought for the best man to be a husband for me. …And who could possibly be a better choice than the son of a fellow samurai?"

Noting the sorrow in her voice, Nuhiro nodded and drew up the conclusion. "So your father arranged for you to marry Aroji. How sad that a young woman should have such little choice to marry anOOF!" Spitting out the pillow that had been thrown in his face, the elder swordsman looked around curiously before stopping to stare at Futashi-who was strangely missing his seat cushion.

"Futashi," Yuiishi softly scolded, but little else was done to correct his mannerism.

"Stop talkin' like you know it all, old man!" the roguish child spat. "You're just as presumptuous as Fem-Boy over there!"

"Oro!"

"You know something about this, Himura-dono?"

Waving his hands in front of him defensively, the redhead answered, "I'm sure that if we let Nikko-dono continue we'll find out de gozaru."

"Hmm. Please continue then, Nikko-dono."

"I was arranged to marry, but not to Aroji," the woman said, ignoring the antics of the interruption. "There was another son to the Amatomo family. Aroji's older brother and my first fiancé, Amatomo Seitaro."

…_Seitaro_… Himura echoed the name in his mind, trying to stir up the memory associated with it. Try as he might however, he found he could not recall a face to go with the name. Or more accurately, he did not know _which_ face went with the name. It was something the Ishin Shishi had come to regret along with the sins of killing the men; not getting their names.

He remembered faces. Countless faces, each clear as a bell and more often than not they were twisted in fear or locked in death. But he had no names. Or at least very few. He did try to get them when he could, but most of his information sources told him he should only bother with the titles of important figures of groups, armies, politicians, and officials. The average soldier was not much of their concern, so even when Himura had asked for names, they could not always be provided.

Especially when a random one stumbled across an assassination and had to be… dealt with. An incident that happened often enough that Himura was left with a few faces to try and piece to the name Amatomo Seitaro. He wondered which one it was…

Gods, what a morbid thing to ponder on.

He quickly turned his attention back to Nikko's words. She had just finished relaying the news of her fiancé's death reaching her and her family and looked distraught over retelling the memory. It was obvious to Kenshin now that Seitaro was the one she had truly wanted to marry. As Futashi had said, he had been a good man to her and her family and would've made her a fine husband if… if he hadn't…

"Seitaro's father and mine died as well, fighting together in the same battle. There were little pieces to pick up for our families afterwards, and our futures were suddenly very insecure after the war-especially since the Shouganate lost. However, Aroji, the only surviving son of Amatomo, returned and it came to the point where the agreement to join our families became our only hope for surviving in this era."

…_This era_, Himura mused bitterly. _This era that was supposed to bring everyone joy, equality, and happiness... If all that talk and all those promises were true, why is it I only hear of suffering? _

"It was best for our families so I gave my consent to the new engagement which soon afterward became marriage."

_How long will it be until the dream becomes reality?_

"…Things were supposed to get better after that."

_Or was it only a dream…?_

"They didn't."

_And nothing more._

Nikko had subtly begun to wring her hands in front of her large belly as she continued, but that and the distress in her eyes were her only indications of discomfort. The rest of her remained in proper posture, as though afraid she'd be chastised for sitting any other way.

"Aroji…" she hesitantly continued, "…became embittered by the Shogunate's defeat. He had much pride in it, you see. He and his father had been especially loyal to Tokugawa, so thus the collapse and the death of his kin enraged him. He would lecture daily, to us and to others, how the new government was weak and unstable, and how he could not bare to live in it."

"Too bad he wasn't the suicidal type," Futashi muttered from his corner. Himura stared at him, surprised by such venom words; but that was the harshest reprimand the boy received.

"Aroji's anger became… aggressive," Nikko went on. No one had to ask what she meant by aggressive. "He started going to bars every night, and I think that's where he met men who felt the same as he did about the new government. Then he started inviting them over for… meetings, of some sort." She lowered her gaze. "Meetings about politics. _Their_ politics." 

Her brother snorted. "Some meetings. They got more drunk than they did political."

"Futashi, hush!" Asuka said at last. "This is hard for Nikko-chan to say! Be a little more supportive!"

"I _am_ being supportive."

"I meant--"

"It's alright, Asuka," the young wife interrupted. To assure her she smiled timidly. "It's alright."

Sensing the tension hidden behind the smile, Obaga cleared his throat. "I think from what Yuiishi-dono had told me before, I know the rest. You husband began to conspire against the government and out of fear for your brother and child you left, ne?"

"Ha-hai," Nikko answered, looking a bit relieved from the duty of telling her life's story.

"Then you came here and Yuiishi-dono let you stay."

"Actually, Asuka-chan found us. She then convinced Yuiishi-sama to let us live here in exchange for my taking care of the other children." Looking over to the two women and offering a more genuine smile she added, "I'll never forget such kindness." They smiled in return.

"So you were hoping to live here and escape the more serious dangers your husband was about to inflict upon your family, correct?" Nuhiro continued.

"Or at least until the baby was born," Futashi explained. "And we probably could have been safe if not for--" He abruptly cut himself off, leaving a hanging sentence in the air. A sentence that Himura finished.

"…If not for me coming here." 

The women exchanged curious glances while Futashi remained sullenly silent and Obaga quickly grasped for the one line of divine insight that would neutralize the situation.

"So Buddha, the Emperor, and a Zen Master walk into a bar de gozaru…"

That was not it.

After rubbing his neck and chuckling nervously from all the stares and glares he received, Obaga decided to try again. "Er, what I meant to say was… _Both_ Himura-dono and I seemed to have caused you all this unrest. Since Himura-dono was in my charge to begin with, I take full responsibility and humbly apologize de gozaru." He bowed himself low before them.

"Well," Yuiishi sighed, "I suppose we can't exactly blame you two for anything. It was my idea to send you off spying, Obaga-san. And you did save Futashi from danger Himura." The young man looked at the ground in slight embarrassment, unable to lift his gaze to see how the boy reacted to this. "If anything, it is probably more fortunate having you here than to have never had you here at all."

This made Kenshin look up. "How's do you figure _that_?" he asked, realizing after the matter that this was not the most polite way to word such a question.

"Amatomo would probably have discovered our location sooner or later," the mistress explained. "It was probably only a matter of time before he found Nikko-chan again and came after her. But with the two of you swordsmen here, perhaps he will leave well enough alone."

"Somehow I kinda doubt that," Futashi hesitantly informed. The others looked toward him. "Well… Aroji's such a beef-head I wouldn't count on him giving up so easily," he explained.

"Futashi's right," Nikko agreed. "The man's head is thicker than tofu."

"Now Nikko," Yuiishi chided. "Aren't we forgetting something?"

"Um, his manners are cruder than a boar's hide?"

"No. Just because he's a selfish, abusive, overly possessive radical that has an unhealthy obsession with overthrowing the government, that's no way to talk about your husband. You wait until after the other men are gone, _then_ you proceed to babble his secrets and rip his dignity to shreds. Really, I thought I taught you better."

"Sorry Yuiishi-sama. I did forget."

The three males present pressingly decided then that women were the most frightening force to reckon with.

"Er, in any case," Obaga coughed, "I feel it my duty to help clear up any matters we have tampered with de gozaru. Although I can't speak for Himura-dono, I am confident he wishes to offer his assistance to you as well." Kenshin nodded firmly to confirm this statement.

"Thank-you, gentlemen," Yuiishi said. "We shall take full advantage of you." The two men blinked and the woman quickly recollected herself. "I mean, of _your services_."

"Uh… You're welcome," the elder samurai replied. He turned to Himura and shrugged. "I think," he added under his breath.

In agreement, the red haired man added, "A-a-a-choo!" 

"Turn and sneeze if you don't mind, Himura-dono," Obaga muttered unpleasantly.

"Sorry," Kenshin sniffled.

"Himura," Asuka remarked, "have you been wearing those clothes ever since you fell into that river?"

"I've been wearing these clothes since I came here." He decided not to add the word, "unfortunately," as he desired to.

"I hope you're not leaving another watermark," Nikko mumbled.

Kenshin assured her, "I've had a few hours to dry." To emphasize, he sneezed again.

"Goodness, Himura-san," Yuiishi tsked. "Why didn't you say so earlier? Asuka-chan, be a dear and show these gentlemen the way to the baths. Get them settled with a set of yukatas to sleep in and we'll see about getting them some temporary fresh clothes in the morning."

"Arigatou, Yuiishi-dono," both men returned.

"Meanwhile, it's late. We should all get some sleep and talk more in the morning. Nikko-chan, will you be alright?"

"Aa, I'll be fine," the young woman replied, a tired smile on her lips. "Arigatou minna. I'm very touched and honored by your care."

"Of course dear. Now let's all settle down for the night."

Without another word, everyone rose to their feet and headed off in their separate ways. While crossing paths however, Himura and Futashi caught eye-contact and briefly stopped to stare at one another. A short, murmured conversation passed between them, one that actually earned a small grin from Futashi, before they continued on their ways. Curious as to what they had said, Obaga caught up to his pupil and asked.

"Just confirming my name," he replied.

"Oro? And what, pray tell, is your name then?" 

Kenshin smiled. "Sessha wa Fem-Lackey de gozaru."

  


End of chapter sixteen.

  
  
  


Author's Notes:

Well this took shamefully too long for its short length. I apologize minna. It seems I've slipped into a monthly-update schedule. I'd like to say it's going to get better, but final exams are coming up so I'd best not make that promise jut yet. Again, I apologize and thank those of you who are still hanging on. *sniffles* It's nice to know you still care!

Hopefully all questions on Nikko's past are now answered. Some of you said you saw it coming, others did not. Well, although I admit that I was hoping to have it be a good surprise, I'm not put down that some of you knew. In fact, those who did get virtual cookies! Pick them up at your local dispenser. For those of you who didn't get it, you've actually pleased me. All in all though, let's just say that for the record, it was mostly just to let you know that Kenshin knew.

Well, this chapter got quite serious. You know... at a point or two. Should've put a warning at the beginning of the story that this chapter was a hardhat section. "Beware of Falling Fourth Wall." Sorry about that. I couldn't resist. *grin* I'm going to try and bring lots of humor back in the next chapter though, so stay tuned!

On a closing note for this chapter, I'd like to say that I have been wanting to post the next chapter to, "The Akabeko Crisis" for a couple of weeks, despite my resolve no to until this fic was completed. I'd like to do this, but was wondering if I'd be tarred and feathered for this or not. Depending on the response to this, we'll see what happens.

Thank you for your continued support minna! You have no idea how much it means to me, and how much it is really encouraging me to move on with this fic. Thanks again.

  
  



	17. Putting the Fem in Lackey

Disclaimer: Sessha doesn't own Ruouni Kenshin or its characters. Sessha wa Dirt Poor de gozaru. Don't sue sessha onegai!

**A Rurouni's Guide to Idiocy**

Chapter Seventeen

  


Himura blinked the sleep away from his eyes upon the vague sensation of being nudged. Quickly adjusting his vision to the morning light, he found himself face-to-face with the source of the nudging feeling.

"Time to wake up, Himura-dono," Obaga greeted pleasantly. "Rise and shine!"

It took the redhead a minute, but he soon answered with the most natural response.

"DOU RYU SEN!"

"What was that for de gozaru ka?!" Nuhiro demanded from his new spot in the wall. "I woke you up nice today!"

"Oh." Kenshin rubbed the back of his neck a bit sheepishly. "Sorry. Old habits die hard I guess." 

Obaga had to agree with that, and to prove he did, he fell into his morning routine of unconsciousness. Sighing, Himura was about to go over and pick the old man up when the door to the laundry room opened and Nikko stepped in. She surveyed the scene for a moment, observing Nuhiro's lack of awareness before shrugging and turning over to Himura.

"Your clothes are currently drying on the line," she told him. "One of the girls washed them first thing this morning."

"Oh, sorry. Sessha could've done that," he replied, choosing to ignore that part of him that was almost disappointed that he was denied laundry duty. He'd have to do some deep soul-searching to figure that one out.

"Don't worry about it," the woman assured him. "But you will have to have something else to wear until they dry."

"Any suggestions?"

"A rice sack would probably be more fashionable."

"Point. Have any on hand?"

"Plenty," she smiled. "But I actually have something else in mind for you."

Not missing the mischievous curve of her grin, Himura audibly gulped. 

_I have a bad feeling about this de gozaru._

-----------

It is believed by many that every life is guided by a certain series of events predestined to them by an omnipotent and awesome deity. Himura found himself believing such a thing at the moment, and had only one thing to say to whatever mysterious entity it was ruling his fate.

"What did sessha ever do to _you_?!"

Mistaking this to be addressed to her, Nikko rolled her eyes. "Really Himura-san. Didn't you just say yesterday that you were willing to lend us any assitance?"

"Yes, but I was thinking more along the lines of a bodyguard type assistance, not a… a…"

"Model?" she offered.

"You've turned me into a life-sized Dress-Me-Up-Sachiko doll!"

Obaga, whom had recovered and was nearby handing Nikko pins when she asked for them, laughed heartily at this outburst. Futashi, who was putting the final repairs to the roof, overheard and guffawed his own amusement. Himura was two amber eyes short of going Battousai on them. However, even though a warning glare from him could intimidate quite a few men, the effect was somehow lost over the vibrant colors and butterfly pattern of the delicate kimono draped over his body, complete with striped obi. Even Nikko chuckled at the sight.

"Don't be ridiculous," she told him. "Those dolls have black hair whereas yours is red."

Himura grumbled something that Nikko couldn't hear but was quite sure it wasn't supposed to be. "Why can't Obaga do this?" the young man in drag complained.

"Because he doesn't have the build for this. Your frame on the other hand is much more…um…" She faltered for a safe word.

"Delicate?" Nuhiro supplied.

"Feminine," Futashi corrected.

"…Suitable," Nikko concluded.

The former hitokiri glowered. "I so hate my life de gozaru."

"Now Himura, I told you that this needs to be done," Nikko explained while continuing to fit the ensemble. "I've been putting it off for far too long and many of the girls need their kimonos back." The redhead shifted slightly and she had to stop herself before she pricked him with the needle in her hand. "Himura stop moving! You're fidgeting too much!" 

"I can't help it, Obaga is leering at me!"

"Oro, I am not!" Everyone stared at him. "Well, it's not a _leer_ per say. Besides, you have to admit Himura-dono looks very attractive in a dress."

"Hmm," the young woman said, looking her live-mannequin over a few times. "You're right, he's not half bad. Yuiishi-sama could probably use you at the gates to invite customers in, Himura!" Futashi whistled from the roof.

"Obaga-dono, where is sessha's sakabatou?" Kenshin asked in belying polite tones.

"Over in the corner there with my sword. Why?"

"Death by sword is much more preferable than death by humiliation de gozaru."

"What do you plan to do? Bruise yourself to death?"

"I could do it."

"Now, now Himura," Nikko smiled. "We wouldn't let you off that easily."

Kenshin sighed. "There will be no honor in my passing, will there?"

"Not dressed like that there won't be."

The Ishin Shishi gritted his teeth and endured the laughter that followed. If he didn't bare it for the sake of his pursuit of new lifestyle, he did it for the fact that Nikko was laughing. Since he came here, he could not remember hearing her laugh, let alone smile (in that non-devious type of way). This was a refreshing change of pace, and it appeared that he and Obaga had finally earned the trust of these people.

What is it about sharing your deepest darkest secrets that makes everyone like you more anyway? Even the kids were being considerate!

To prove this train of thought, one of the girls piped, "Wow Himura-niichan! You look really pretty!" 

"I hope I grow up to be that beautiful!" another agreed.

Ah the innocence of children. …How hard it made it to despise them.

Futashi entered then, keeping his eyes to the ceiling to survey his own craftsmanship. "It's not a professional job, but the roof should hold firm enough to keep out the rain and snow," he said, and then at last looked down. While he had known what they were doing to Himura, he hadn't yet actually seen it himself, and frankly, not even his worst imagination could've prepared him for this. Seeing what he knew to be the legendary Battousai dolled up in silks and sashes (and it complimenting his features) sent Futashi into a bout that could only be called Hysterical.

"I-I may have to take th-the 'Man' out of 'Girly Man' at this rate!!" he howled before doubling over with hilarity.

"I do believe he's turning purple de gozaru," Obaga said, observing the boy's face and lack of intake. He glanced over at Himura. "And I also believe you don't care."

"Sessha cares. …Somewhat. Besides, he'll pass out before he could choke himself." Before he could add "A pity that," he was cut-off by Nikko who suddenly sucked in a strong lung-full of air and clutched her stomach. "Nikko-dono?" he asked worriedly, and would've bent down to help her if that didn't result in a dozen needles sticking into his butt. Luckily Obaga was right at her side.

"Nikko-dono, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," she panted, then straightened herself out with a few more deep breathing exercises. "Just the baby," she explained after seeing their faces still etched with concern. "The little one nearly kept me awake all night last night."

"Should you be up and around this much in your condition?" the elder samurai asked.

"I'm fine, I'm fine!" she assured. "Besides, the doctor said I'm not due for another month or so. The baby's just getting riled up by all the excitement I bet."

"Perhaps you should rest."

"No, no, I promised the girls I'd have their dresses done…"

"Oneechan, you're doing it again."

Everyone turned their attention over to Futashi, whom no one had noticed became quite alert when his sister had been in pain a moment ago. Nikko almost looked ashamed at her brother's accusation. So of course she slipped her defensive mask on a moment later.

"What are you talking about?" she asked, turning back to her work. "I'm not doing anything."

"Yes you are!" the boy insisted. "You're doing that… 'work' thing you always do when you get too upset! You know. Where you work!"

"Well that explained everything," Himura said when it didn't.

Futashi started over. "Every time oneechan is upset but doesn't want anyone to know it, she makes herself busy by doing lots of work, no matter what her condition." Nikko shot him a glare that labeled him as a traitor. "You do!" he pressed.

"Is that true, Nikko-dono?" Obaga inquired.

"It just helps me occupy my mind with other things," she answered defensively. "Not to say I ignore the problem, but I just don't want to upset the others. Especially the children." She paused. "By the way, why are we talking about this in front of the children?"

Everyone turned to the six chubby, little faces looking in from the porch. Each had a vacant expression.

"I don't think they get it anyway," Kenshin answered.

"I think they're still amazed at how well you put the 'male' in 'female,'" Futashi reasoned with a smirk. Himura scowled at him.

"In any case," Nikko continued, pulling out a few pins (much to Himura's relief) as she sewed. "You don't have to worry about me at all. I am putting my complete trust in you two." She paused as thought just realizing something. She turned to her brother. "Did I actually just say that?"

"Yup. Aloud even."

"I'm doomed aren't I?"

"Well when you say it with that attitude…"

"Er, Nikko-dono, when will you be done?" Kenshin asked, remaining still as she continued her sewing.

"Oh it hasn't been that long," she chided. Seeing his displeasure at her ambiguous answer she added, "Not much longer. I just need to finish this fitting and the hem and then it should be done!"

He sighed. "Good."

"…Then we'll have five more."

"_Nani_?!"

Nikko smiled up at him, but not in that entirely warm sense. "I told you I had put this off for a while. Work just kinda piled up."

For a moment Himura looked sick, then he addressed his deity again. "Sessha knows he has not always been the best person he could be, but is this really necessary?!"

To answer him, the gate leading to the brothel creaked open and clamored shut, followed by a swift shuffle of someone's footsteps. The children cleared the way as a moment later, one of the girls from the teahouse dashes up to the doorframe. Her distraught expression and lack of breath brought everyone's immediate attention.

"Yuki-chan!" Nikko cried, and would have rushed to the woman's side had she been able to accomplish the task of standing up in less than 15 minutes. 

Himura immediately recognized the woman at the door. She had been the other of the two girls besides Asuka when he had first hunted down Obaga. She had also been the other girl to give him such a… er, ahem, "warm" welcome during his first meal here. He hadn't seen much of her since then, but she also didn't seem to have the same relationship with Nikko and the children as Asuka did. So what was she doing back here now?

Recovering her breath, Yuki looked up with panicked eyes. "Nikko-chan! Quick, you have to hide! Obaga-san, you and… Hi…mu…ra… er…" 

Kenshin supposed he would have been less than amused at Yuki's sudden realization of his current attire if he hadn't already caught wind of the emergency in her voice. Urgently he told her to continue, hoping to get her mind back on track. It worked, and the brothel girl snapped out of her stupor and finished her message.

"Yuiishi-sama sent me to tell you!" she relayed quickly. "Your husband is here, along with his gang!" Silence dropped onto her audience like a 300 pound sumo wrestler fallen from an eight story building. "He knows you're here, Nikko-chan! You, Futashi, and even the swordsmen!"

"How?" Himura demanded, thinking of his pursuer the night before, but knowing that the person couldn't have possibly followed him back; he had lost him before then.

"I don't know," Yuki answered. "But they're creating a riot up front, demanding to see you all!" Nearing tears in her fright, she stammered, "A-Asuka-chan…"

"Asuka's in danger?!" Nikko cried.

Nothing more needed to be said to prompt the swordsmen, and both were soon out of the door in a flash, nearly breaking down the gate as they went. The women and children could only look after them, slowly adjusting to the fact that they were no longer there and marveling at their response to duty.

"…Fem-Lackey there was still in the kimono, wasn't he?" Futashi asked after a long pause.

"Uh-huh," his sister numbly replied, still trying to pull her wits together. She glanced at the corner of the room and added on an absent note, "And they forgot their swords."

"Great." Futashi quickly gathered up the blades and started out the door.

"Futashi-kun, where do you think you're going?!"

"A lot of good our protectors are gonna do us if they don't have anything to protect us with!" he shouted back. "Don't worry, I'll be right back!"

_Famous last words_, was the unbidden thought that ran through Nikko's mind. Biting her lip, she hoped she was wrong.

…Then she bit her lip harder and prayed that this kid in her stomach would give her a break! Honestly, this was worse than last night when…

Nikko blinked, then glared at her stomach.

"Don't you _dare_!" she hissed.

Another kick reminded her who was boss.

-----------

When the two rurounis burst into the brothel, their first instincts told them to follow the noise of whatever the loudest ruckus might be. A few doors, several dozen apologies, and some blunt reminders of what the establishment's business was later, they decided to stop and ask for directions. Soon after that they were bolting for the front room. 

Himura was expecting many things as he and Obaga charged into the lobby. Chaos, vandalizing, abuse, swearing, and lots of violence were naming a few. But of all the things he'd envisioned, Asuka doing a lap dance to a dozen catcalls was not among them.

"Oro?!" he and Nuhiro squawked at the same time. This along with their disruptive entrance soon gave them most of the attention in the room (although a few eyes still lingered on the brown haired beauty).

"Er… Asuka-dono, what are you doing?" Kenshin ventured to ask, temporarily ignoring the situation to observe hers.

Despite still having her audience enthralled, Asuka managed to step away from the crowd and make her way behind them without any hassle. "I'm stalling, what's it look like?" she hissed. Then she blinked as she noticed Himura's outfit. Before she could comment on it however, a chuckle and deep voice rumbled through the room. 

"Well, well, well. Look who decided to join us." 

The two entry men followed the sound of the voice over to a table to their far right. The table was shrouded in some shadow, but this was not unusual. _All_ of the tables were shrouded in shadow, seeing as to how people liked a bit of privacy in places like this. Still, despite the lack of light, they knew who was addressing them.

Amatomo Aroji smiled grimly at them from the darkness. "You must be Obaga Nuhiro," he said, addressing the elder samurai. "Nanari-san here has told me so much about you." Their eyes widened as the noticed that next to Aroji was seated Yuiishi, the head mistress herself, but obviously against her will. Still, despite the hostility, the woman did not look the least bit panicked or perturbed. If anything, she just looked a little over-crowded for teatime.

"Yuiishi-dono," Nuhiro called. "Daijoubu ka?"

"Hai, I'm fine Obaga-san," she calmly replied, impressing Himura with her cool approach to the otherwise distressing situation.

"Sorry to have interrupted your pleasures," Aroji spoke, giving the redhead a brief glance before focusing once again upon the elder samurai, "but I was expecting the Battousai to show up as well."

"I'm right here if you want me," Himura replied evenly, his eyes edging on amber as he successfully captured all of their attention. A heavy, uneasy silence lanced through the group.

Finally Aroji snorted. 

Not the kind of snort one would give to create a superior effect, but more along the "I'm-holding-back-a-fit-of-laughter-that-will-bust-my-gut-if-I-release-it-aw-screw-it" type of snort. This immediately broke down everyone else's resistance and the entire company was soon howling on the ground or clutching their sides in pain. Himura might've thought them to be sick or poisoned if it weren't for the fact that they were all laughing.

"What's so funny?" he asked.

Aroji decided to inform him in-between his own guffaws. "N-ni-nice skirt, Battousai!" he said with tears in his eyes. More catcalls and whistles ensued from those who could spare the breath.

"Oro? Nice… skir…" He froze as he realized that in his haste to rescue Asuka and protect the girls, he'd completely forgotten his state of dress. …"Dress" being the emphasized word here. It was probably the most awkward moment in Himura's life. 

…Well, alright, so learning about a "woman's nature" from Yuiishi-dono had probably been almost just as uncomfortable; "The Facts of Life According to Shishou" following close behind. Still, this was incredibly humiliating and doing nothing for his intimidation factor except eliminating it.

"You forgot, didn't you?" Nuhiro asked from behind him.

Off the subject, the young man noted, "At this rate, sessha is sure he will have suffered enough for his sins in about another week's worth of time de gozaru."

"I'm not even going to ask," Asuka muttered, wondering if it was too late to act like she wasn't associated with them. Himura continued to turn red faced at the mockery.

"Shake it, Battou-baby!"

"Who does your nails?"

"Pretty Boy!"

"What, no fancy hairdo?"

"Ha ha! That girl thinks she's the Battousai!"

Laughter swiftly died at the last comment, and the entire assembly turned to the man who shouted it. At last Kunhori, the second in command, spoke up.

"Koeji, I thought I forbade you from speaking."

"Oh yeah. …You mean like _now_?"

"Always!"

"Oh."

Somehow maintaining his cool, Nikko's husband returned to the conversation as though it had never broke. "Should we come back later?" he asked with a sneer. "I wouldn't want to be… interrupting anything." His smile never left his broad features.

"A rain check would be nice," Asuka agreed. "How about the 2nd? …of Never," she grumbled under her breath.

"You have a rather sharp tongue," the lord of these radicals remarked lightly. Then in sudden dark, amused tones he hissed, "And unless you can hold it I'll cut it out for you. A woman should know she had no voice in a man's presence unless spoken to."

The warning silenced her, but Asuka stuck her tongue out at him to display her disgust before thinking that considering what his threat had proposed to do, that wasn't such a good idea. It quickly slipped back in her mouth but she scowled as nastily as she could.

"You will not be threatening any of the girls here," Obaga replied with tones so cold Himura was almost caught off-guard himself. "Your endangerment to them and to the government ends here today, Amatomo-san. You should surrender now or prepare yourself de gozaru."

Casting his gaze back at the old man, Himura recognized the feral glint shining there. The ex-hitokiri would've smiled had the situation been different. This was the Obaga he had first met on the morning streets earlier that week. The one that could handle his own just fine. He wouldn't have to worry about him in this fight.

"Himura-dono."

"Hai?" Kenshin waited for a possible instruction or signal.

"…Uh, well I seem to have forgotten my sword de gozaru. Would you mind taking care of this one?"

Kenshin hit the ground face first. "NANI?!" he asked after picking himself up. "How could you forget your sword in such a… a… aaaaaaahhhhhhhh…" He looked down and noticed that a particular reversed blade was missing from his waistline. …Which looked much slimmer in stripes. After a moment, he said for the record, "Well that's not good."

"Ya _think_?!" Asuka screeched, taking into full account the new situation. "I can't remember why we all trusted you guys to take care of this in the first place! Suicide would've been quicker and easier! Not to mention a lot less embarrassing!"

Obaga tried calming her down as Himura sheepishly turned to the others.

"Er, you kind of caught us at a bad time as you can see. Why don't you just enjoy some snacks while we get our weapons and sessha changes into more appropriate attire? Then we can finish up this whole grudge battle and have our bloodbath after tea!"

If there was anything to be said to that, it was not said by anyone in the room. Instead, a shouting voice filtered in from the hall way and a minute later, the door slid open to reveal two figures. Both were quite short, but the smaller of the two was pushed inside and unceremoniously dropped to the ground.

"Futashi-kun!" Kenshin shouted, instantly recognizing the boy. Looking up, he took in the second figure dressed in black. A man about his height and build, long, dark brown hair held back in a high ponytail and black mask covering the bottom portion of his face. What struck Himura the most was the man's ki. It was the same that had tracked him last night. 

"They have a ninja," he quietly informed Obaga.

"Eh, he's only a little one," his companion replied. Himura shot him a dirty look.

"Do you realize how many times I heard that said about me in the Bakumatsu?"

"…Er, better keep your guard up Himura-dono. Just in case."

"Yeah."

Aroji welcomed the spy with another smile. "Murobi-san, how nice of you to join us! I see you've found the whelp. Where's the woman?"

"Out back," Murobi replied, his voice scratchy and unpleasant. "There's a garden beyond the gate that leads to a small house. She is there with six other children who are offspring of other girls here in the teahouse, and the woman who ran to inform her and the men of your presence. It seems they carelessly left some things behind however…" Himura and Obaga tensed as the man brought up their swords. "I found the boy here trying to deliver these to those two over there." Although his mask covered his mouth, it was obvious he was smirking. "I thought it was rude for him to do such a thing without asking your permission, so I brought him here for you."

"Well done," the lord approved. His henchman bowed in gratitude, handing over the swords to Aroji's outstretched hand. The receiving man towered over the boy. "Well, that was a rather rude thing for you to do, Futashi. Were you really going to betray your own brother-in-law like that?"

Futashi finally looked, or more accurately, _glared_ up from his position on the floor and suddenly his friends understood why he'd stayed down for so long. Welts and bruises covered his skin, his right eye black and swollen. Aroji merely tsked in light disapproval.

"You took away my fun!" he chided Murobi. "I won't have the satisfaction of punishing him myself!"

"Forgive me, Lord," the ninja apologized. "He put up quite a resistance."

"Yes, I suppose he would have. Stubborn one, he is. It must run in the family." The broad leader leaned down to grin openly in the boy's face. Futashi's eyes sparked with anger. "Oh well, his spirit doesn't look broken yet so there's still some fun to be had." He chuckled. "I admit I'm impressed though. You don't break as easy as your sister, Kid."

Asuka let out a sharp yelp of surprise when Amatomo's head suddenly snapped back due to Futashi's fist connecting with his jaw. While not a strong enough punch to do as much damage as Aroji deserved, the man still stumbled back quite a bit as his henchmen immediately swarmed the boy. They failed to find him however, seeing as to how Himura had instantly jumped in to bring him to safety. Using his godlike speed to reach Nikko's brother, he lifted the boy into his arms and leapt again, sailing over the heads of the radicals. Before any of them could blink, Himura was already smoothly landing back with the others.

…Well, he _would_ have smoothly landed had the rush not gotten his legs tangled up in the tight constrictions of the kimono and the loose tails of the obi. As it was, he stumbled quite badly before crashing into another table. His only salvation was that he had managed to break Futashi's fall, saving the kid from further injury.

"Just when I think you can't get anymore hopeless…" Futashi grumbled, finding no need to finish off his sentence as her gingerly picked himself up, Asuka rushing over to help him.

"Futashi-kun, daijoubu ka?!"

"Don't worry, I'm alright," the boy winced, ignoring the pain in his body. Two others walked over a moment later.

"Is everything alright?" the head mistress asked.

"Yuiishi-sama, when did you get away?" Asuka inquired.

"Obaga-san here saved me while Himura was getting Futashi," she explained.

Nuhiro meanwhile was looking curiously at the expression of agony etched on his partner's face. "Oro? Himura-dono, what's wrong?"

Grimacing, the redhead weakly reported, "I don't think that Nikko-dono had all the pins out yet."

"…ow."

"Sessha isn't going to tell you where half of them are right now because there are women present de gozaru."

"…_Ow_."

"You have no idea."

A growing boisterous laugh from behind made them turn their heads. Aroji stood there, chuckling to his heart's content while idly rubbing his mildly sore chin. 

"I'm glad to see you've still got such a fighting spirit, Futashi-kun. My brother tutored you well. You could become a great warrior with that determination and do many great things." He held out his right hand. " …With the right leadership, of course. What do you say? Let me finish what Seitaro started." 

Futshi blinked his one good eye, then glared with it. "If that was an offer to join you, then you can forget it! No way will I ever allow myself to become a scumbag like you!"

"How about if I start treating you and your sister better?"

"How about you just leave us alone?!" the boy shouted. "What do you want from us anyway? We can't give you anything!"

"Ah, but that's where you'd be wrong. You're sister has something of mine that will be vital to the new age our troop will bring about. She herself is an important part of this plan, and will be renowned throughout history." His teeth gleamed in a twisted grin. "You see, she is to be the mother of the next generation."

Asuka gasped. "The baby," she realized.

"Exactly. I will need an heir to pass my legacy down to after all. But to make sure she raises it properly, I have to keep her under a close watch. Do you understand now?"

The shocked and angry silence that followed was short-lived as an outburst came from the hall Himura and Obaga had entered through. Yuki was soon again at a doorframe, panting and panicked. From her initial babble, one phrase finally jumped out above the rest.

"Nikko-chan's water broke!" she cried. "She needs help!"

Exasperated, Himura yelled back, "Well tell her we'll fix it later! We're kind of busy here!"

A pause, then Yuiishi calmly walked over, tapped the redhead on the shoulder, and whispered something into his ear that made his eyes widen.

"………Oh."

Aroji smiled. "My, what perfect timing," he said.

Kenshin thought just the opposite.

  


End of chapter seventeen.

  
  
  


Author's Notes:

Sorry people, no pink gi yet. (Hope you enjoyed the alternative though.) Man, I just keep you all hanging on for that don't I? Don't worry though, it WILL appear in this fic! Just... no yet. *grin*

Incredible! I nearly breezed through this chapter! For some reason, I find that I have a much easier time writing humor than I do writing drama. That's why this chapter came out so quick. Must be because I feel this should remain a humor fic, so whenever I'm writing drama, I go back and revise it 30 times, chanting to myself, "_Where can I squeeze in a joke? Where can I squeeze in a joke?_" But this chapter was getting back to the funny bone, so I hope you enjoyed it! Don't get too hopeful about the next chapter being out this soon, but I'll try. -_-;;

I didn't realize it until I was halfway done with this chapter, but... "A Rurouni's Guide to Idiocy" is almost done! I think I have about 3 or 4 more chapters to go until I complete this story (I can't say exactly how many because I've ended chapters soon than anticipated in the past). Still, in about a couple months (less if I'm feeling inspired like this past week), it should be complete! Sugoi. Ah, but I won't get into that now. I'll save sentements for the last post.

"The Akabeko Crisis" has been updated with another chapter, but no further chapters will be added until this fic's end. But that shouldn't be _too_ long, so that's not a big problem. Thanks for all of your support, minna!

Speaking of support... SUGOI! Over 300 reviews! I _never_ thought it would get this popular! *sniffles* I can't begin to express my appreciation for your kindness and for just taking an extra minute to punch out a review. For this, I'm going to try and cook up something special for when I close this story! A gift is in the works!

On a special note to Shiari: WOW! I still can hardly believe that you're making the thing! Well, I _will_ be at AnimeExpo this coming year, so I'll definitely be looking for you!! (And if you're wearing the thing I doubt I'll be able to miss you.) Pictures galore! (I hope it doesn't break my camera though. Note to self: no flash)

  
  



	18. Cleaning House

Disclaimer: If I really owned the series, would this be here? Better yet, if I really owned the series, would I be writing fanfiction on it?! *pause* ...Well... It wouldn't be _fiction_ then (er, in face of the already fictional series I mean). 

_NOTE: 2/21/03, third attempt at getting the URLs to show. If all else fails, I might be posting them on my bio page. Gomen, minna!_

**A Rurouni's Guide to Idiocy**

Chapter Eighteen

  


Himura Kenshin had plenty of experience on being in tight spots. Fighting in a war tended to do that for people. 

He had been surrounded as he was now. He had been responsible for protecting others as he was now. He had even been the situation's last hope as he was now, seeing as to how Obaga was saying he was open to options. He had even been without his sword or disarmed on the especially rare occasion, as he was now. However, he had never, _ever_ been in drag as he was now. And that was just humiliating.

"Kunhori!"

"Yes Lord?"

Aroji walked over to Murobi, swords in hand. "Take care of those two," he ordered. "And do a better job than you did last time, although I don't suspect they'll give you as hard a time without their weapons." Himura answered his sneer with one of his glares. 

"Yes Lord!"

"In the meantime, I'm going to drop in on my family. Murobi-san, lead the way."

"Understood."

Himura watched as the two left, but his attention was quickly forced back onto the mob in front of them as Kunhori began to organize them into attack. He frowned, knowing this would not be easy. Fending off one or two men with swords while weaponless was one thing, but almost a dozen was quite another. Even with Obaga by his side and his own strong advantage in speed, this could come close. His eyes narrowed, becoming steeled and icy in his conclusion. 

"We need to get our swords back as soon as possible," he informed his elder companion, not taking his gaze off the mob, who were all ready to begin now. "Until then, we'll just have to—-Oro?" The forbidding hitokiri stare was instantly broken as Kenshin blinked down at the mop suddenly placed in his hands. Looking over, he found Obaga armed with a broom while the others held brushes and buckets that had been supplied by a concealed cleaning closet.

"You didn't think that I was just gonna lie down and let you do all the fun stuff again, did you?" Futashi asked, grinning (or was that a wince?) with his split lip and gripping the bucket in his hand tighter. 

Nuhiro gripped his broom as though it were a sword with an extended handle. "Better than nothing de gozaru," he shrugged before he himself regained his grim determination. "Himura-dono, as soon as there's a break in them, you should run and stop Amatomo." 

"What about you?"

"Entrust their safety to me, Himura-dono. I won't let anything happen to them, I promise."

Kenshin took a glance back at them, his gaze lingering a little longer on the odd sight of seeing the calm, refined Yuiishi-dono ready to bombard the enemy with a duster. "Sessha doesn't think _they'd_ let anything happen to them let alone you de gozaru." He gave a small smile before returning to the battle. "Alright, I'll trust you."

"And we'll trust you," Futashi replied in what would have been another tender moment if he hadn't added, "to not screw up like you guys just did! Leaving your swords behind! Sheesh, how stupid can you get?!"

Before any retort could be made to that, the bellow of, "ATTACK!" shot through the air. So did the hoard of men. So did two buckets, one floor brush, and an old rag.

With a stoke of luck, or perhaps just a very good arm, a bucket and rag landed on the heads of the first two charging men, abruptly cutting off their vision. Obaga ducked in quickly, holding his broom our horizontally before him and effectively using the long handle to knock the wind out of the two simultaneously. Stopping his step short to let the pair fall back and slow down the men behind him, he repositioned his grip to one end of the broom for a wide swing he aimed low, swiping the feet out from under another. Quickly adjusting his hold to regain control, he moved in again, taking advantage of the soldiers who continued to be caught by surprise at the barrage of bristle brushes and water tubs from behind.

Himura's opponents were not so caught off guard. One man sliced the floor brush coming at him neatly in two, but the used swing left him open just long enough for Himura to shove the string-side of the mop into his face, giving his jaw a good rattle and his sense of smell and unpleasant ride. Side-stepping another man's thrust, he spun to execute a Ryuu Kan Sen upon the man. …And then he kept spinning when his attire once again tripped him up and nearly got him slice in half by a slash that he only managed to avoid by letting himself trip. 

Cursing the restricting material under his breath, he scrambled for balance again and his next charging opponent suddenly gave him an idea. Timing the next attack aimed at him, he moved just enough at the right moment. There was a small, quick tearing sound of something cutting through cloth, after which Himura didn't waste a second and lunged forward. The stretch immediately tore along the shallow cut made by his opponent's katana that ran in the front from just above his knees to the hem. With this extra mobility, his offensive and defensive skills were more to his disposal. He proved this as the long reach of the mop struck his adversary before the katana could touch him, following up the move with a shallow-height Ryuu Tsui Sen.

"Time to clean house de gozaru!!!" Nuhiro bellowed from his end of the fight, using his broom of a weapon and quite literally "sweeping" through some of his foes. Himura noticed that Obaga was getting the most aid from their backup, but even still it hardly looked like he really needed the assistance.

Progress was going well, but still not as fast as Himura would've liked it. Almost three minutes had passed, and that was too long considering they needed to protect Nikko. He needed that break and he needed it now.

Catching the communicating glimpse from Kenshin, Obaga nodded once and signaled that he was about to force it. The Ishin Shishi prepared to follow his lead and take the gap. Leaping back to give himself some room, the wise, elder samurai held the broom steadily at his side and with a cold stare raised two fingers to his lips… 

And whistled.

"Nice legs, Himura!" he hooted.

All activity ceased as everyone involuntarily turned towards the former assassin, a subconscious instinct telling them that they should see if they agreed with this or not. Kenshin meanwhile, was paralyzed in mortification as everyone observed his exposed caves before a subconscious instinct told him that he should see how well they could all ogle with their eyeballs removed from their sockets. 

A moment later, when one of the radicals went flying past him, he realized that in his effort to fight off four years of bad hitokiri habits, Obaga had taken advantage of everyone's stunned state. What more, he had taken the katana of one of the fallen men, flipped it, and was fighting as good as before.

"Himura-dono!" Obaga called, snapping him out of his brief stupor. All at once he caught the gap and began to make for it when his companion called to him again. "Perhaps you should take a weapon as well?" 

Kenshin knew what he meant, and a sudden lump of dread sank in his stomach as he looked down at the nearby unconscious form of one of the soldiers, the man's katana in easy reach. Taking it would've been the wisest thing to do. A mop was probably not going to last long against their leader and a ninja, and then how much use would he be? He had to protect Nikko with something didn't he? He _had_ to protect her and yet even still…

His sword hand trembled slightly for a moment. Then in the next, it was steady and firm, as was his resolve.

"No, Obaga-dono," he replied, stepping again back towards the gap. "I have not lifted a real sword since my days in the Revolution, and I do not plan to ever again."

There was not enough time to pause for a tender moment of respect and understanding, but Kenshin though he saw the graying swordsman smile all the same. 

"We'll catch up to you as soon as we can then," he called back. "Good luck!"

Himura grinned back. "Thanks. You too, and be careful!" he added, before turning around and promptly taking his own advice as he swiftly ducked under Koeji's blade. Rolling to safety, he uprighted himself and found that not only had the top of the handle on his mop been slice clean off, but the break had been closed by this man.

"Well, well, well," he drawled, holding a stance that Himura couldn't find any vulnerability in. "Look what we have here." He sneered devilishly. "It's the girl who thinks she's the legendary Battousai!"

Kenshin figured this might've been more insulting had it been said with more sarcasim, but this guy was being completely serious. …Then again, he remembered _this_ guy.

"Stand aside," Himura warned him, brandishing what was left of his cleaning tool as threateningly as such a thing could be brandished. When his opponent began to laugh however, Himura figured it was just his luck this guy wouldn't be stupid enough to be scared of a broken mop.

"What're you gonna do?" Koeji asked. "Clean me to death? Now tell me where Battousai is, Woman, or I'll let you mop up your own blood."

"Wow, that actually sounded like a decent threat!" Blinking, both men turned to find Futashi standing nearby. "Go help my sister, Fem-Lackey! We'll take care of this guy!"

"You've gotta be kidding," Himura did _not_ say, although he was sorely tempted. The boy had a wet rag and scrub brush tucked into his belt and was gripping Yuiishi's duster like a small sword. Frankly he looked more ready to tackle a dirty floor than an opponent, and with his bruises, he was more fit for an infirmary than a battle. And yet…

Himura didn't know if it was the sheer determination in the boy's eyes or the kid's stance that testified that he was the son of a samurai, but he nodded and stepped aside, ready to bolt past. 

…Actually, Kenshin had a strong feeling that is was because Obaga stepped up behind the boy for back up that gave him enough confidence to leave them to their own dealings. Knowing he couldn't waste more time, Himura charged the swordsman.

Koeji took a swipe at the figure rushing at him, surprised when he missed. He was only slightly more surpised by the force behind the mop strings flung into his face. Quickly recovering from the fact that his quarry had managed to not only doge but counter-attack, he ripped the mop head off and turned to deliver a follow-up… Only to find the person disappearing out the door in a record-dash.

"...Wow, she's fast," he absently commented. A snap from behind brought his attention around. Actually, a snap _to_ his behind brought his attention around. Had anyone known where that five-yen birthmark was exactly, it could've been said that hit had been "right on the money." Yelping and rubbing his sore posterier, Koeji whirled around to find his child challenger winding up his towel for another locker room assult.

"Hey, look to where your real opponents are!" Futashi hollered. Behind him, Obaga was standing over his latest fallen foe while Asuka, Yuki, and Yuiishi were standing over the last of them, beating the already wounded man down with water buckets and name calling. 

"We cannot allow you to go any further," Nuhiro's voice, which now sounded low and dangerous, warned. "You should surrender now de gozaru. Or else…"

"Or else?"

"Tell him Futashi."

"Or else we're gonna beat you so bad your _kids_ are gonna be wondering what hit them! …And your kaasan!" he added, just because it always sounded more insulting when you brought someone's mother into the picture.

Obaga nodded sagely. "True dat de gozaru."

Koeji sneered. "Very well. Slaughtering an old man, a brat, and a few women weren't on my agenda today… And neither was dish duty this morning, but you know how some of those things can just pop up on you." The others stared blankly at this until the man's forbidding countenance returned. "In any case, I hope you're all ready to die." His sword came up and glinted dangerously. "Because I'm gonna _kill you to death_!!!"

Before anyone could offer him a better line, Koeji attacked.

-----------

Weaponless, slightly lost (again) and in drag, Kenshin raced through the halls of the teahouse, more concerned about the former part than the later. However, he did have to break a few noses when the lingering customers tried to stop him and flirt.

Luck seemed to be with him however (finally!) when he found the corridor he was following seemed to lead straight outside. …Of course, it ended up being the wrong side of outside, but at least it was easier to decifer the front and back from without the building's maze-like interior. (A part of him mused that a portion of their business must be from people who can't find the exit to leave.) Not only that, but as he stood by the door trying to find his bearings, his eye caught something by the door's frame. It was an umbrella.

Kenshin stared at the bumpershoot for only a seond before grabbing it. It wasn't much but it would have to do. Yeesh, improvising seemed to be on the list of Things to Do today.

Tearing his way around to the backside, he halted and hid himself behind the laundry room when Murobi and Aroji suddenly came into view. Peeking out, he saw that neither one had noticed him yet, and were still heading towards the back gate. Kenshin gritted his teeth as he saw that his sakabatou and Nuhiro's sword remained in the grasp of Amatomo. 

Pulling back, he mulled to himself on how having a plan would be nice right now. But looking back, he could tell he wouldn't have time to plot one. The two men were nearly upon the gate and soon they would enter, find Nikko and the children and then do kami knows what to…

Himura blinked. During this pause, he debated with himself that what he had in mind was a dangerous and dumb idea before countering that it was his _only_ idea. Then he gave up all together under the pressure and took off.

_A **good** plan would be nice right now._

-----------

They both sensed his approach at the same time but Murobi was the first ready to retaliate. Whirling around to see the red haired hitokiri come barreling at him full speed, he let a handful of deadly shuriken fly from his right palm, each hitting their mark on the target. 

…Or at least they would have had the target still been there.

For a split-second Murobi wanted to shout out that the Battousai had vanished, however his instincts knew better. And right then, his self-preservation instincts were telling him that he probably didn't wanna look up right now.

Gathering more throwing knives, he turned his head up anyway to see how he might counter… the foot in his face. Murobi's vision briefly consisted of the bottom of Himura's sandal before the kimono-clad swordsman leapt off his head and cleared the gate with ease. The ninja was left behind to rub his sore nose and curse, which he did so with much vigor. 

Aroji had to admit that if he wasn't on guard, he might've found the scene quite comical. As it was however, he could've help but wonder why the young man hadn't stayed behind to fight. He would've imagined that with his displayed protectiveness earlier, the assassin might've tried keeping them from breeching the wall at all costs. 

A broad grin curled at his lips. This was interesting indeed. Clearly Battousai had another plan in mind but as to what that was, there seemed to be only one way to find out…

"Murobi, you go first! Er, I mean… After him! Don't let him get to my wife so he can hide her!"

"He's not getting away," his henchman promised, bounding after their adversary and making Aroji happy that he had members that understood orders and little else. Landing on the other side, Murobi found he was quickly addressed.

"How did you find this place?" was his welcome.

Looking down the bamboo surrounded path, the darkly clad martial artists grinned cockily under his mask as he spotted Himura waiting for him at the end of it.

"I made sure to get rid of you last night," Kenshin continued when he received no answer. His eyes narrowed and his umbrella… er, well the umbrella didn't really do much of anything. Undeterred by its lack of intimidation however, the redhead continued, "That was you following me, correct?"

"Guilty as charged," Murobi sneered, mocking a deep bow as he did so. "I confess that I was most disappointed that you even discovered me. You truly are a legendary man to be able to detect the stealth of Murobi Genro."

Himura has to consciously will himself not to role his eyes. Third person reference. He _hated_ it when they started talking in third person. As if by pretending you weren't there would make you sound more impressive. Sheesh.

"I'll ask again, how did you find this place?" 

Resigning himself to a small conversation, Murobi replied, "After being discovered by you last night, I had to abandon my pursuit. Understand Battousai, had I been at liberty to confront you openly at the time I would have. As it was however, I was only instructed to follow you."

"Lucky me. Now answer my question."

"Well, failing in my job wasn't exactly the best way to end my night, so I decided to stop off for a drink before reporting."

"You went to a bar?"

"Only for the intention of a small cup of sake. But guess my luck when not five minutes later, who should pop their head in?" Kenshin had a sinking feeling in the bottom of his stomach as Genro chuckled his amusement. "That's right. My adversary, Hitokiri Battousai himself! And not only did I have my sights back on him without him knowing, he asked for directions back to his lodgings; the very place I was to assigned to discover!"

This time Himura had to consciously will himself not to slap his forehead. Of all the dumb luck! It would figure that something like that would happen. Himura hadn't intended to invest in maps due to the fact that he was going to be wandering Japan with no specific destination in order, but after this, it might not hurt to become more aquainted with his locations.

"I thank you, Battousai, for making my job a little easier," Murobi cackled. "If you'd care to continue such services, just be a good man and keep still for me." He produced another handful of shuriken. "In return, I'll try to make this as painless as possible."

Eyes narrowing, Himura waited patiently as his adversary came to meet him.

-----------

Obaga Nuhiro was not stupid. Absent-minded and simple, oh yes. Even senile perhaps, but who could really tell? However, he was definitely not stupid. By his definition, he was actually quite clever, seeing as to how it took a genius to be a proficient idiot. That's why when Koeji suggested the old man stay still as he repeatedly brought his katana down, Obaga politely ignored the advice and defended for all he was worth.

Koeji was good. Very good in fact. Of course, having seen the swordsman display his talents before with Himura had established this fact so it wasn't really a surprise so much as it was a problem with Nuhiro. As good as the experienced samurai was, he lacked Himura's incredible speed and was having a hard time finding an opening he could access. So far the plan consisted of blocking and dodging, hoping Koeji might eventually tire himself out. However, it seemed the rebel was aware of this plan and had lessened his attacks but by no means weakened his defense. It seemed he was not a complete fool either.

...As hard as _that_ was to believe.

It had come down to a one-on-one battle. Asuka, Yuiishi, and Yuki weren't paying much attention to the fight yet because they were too busy tying up the other unconscious men. And if they came across any that weren't unconscious, well, a bucket, dustpan and washboard coming from three separate directions simultaneously was enough to fix that technicality. Futashi was really the only one concentrating on the combatants, ready to come in and aid with his duster anytime he might be able. In the boy's current condition however, Obaga was doing his best to make sure it didn't come to that.

_Control_, Nuhiro recited to himself as they leapt apart to decide their next moves. _Control of the opponent is the key._

Koeji made the first move but unfortunately it was with his mouth. "I won't ask again, Old Man. Where is Battousai?"

"Would you believe me if I said Hokkaido?" he joked.

There was a pause.

"Really? But I just saw him yesterday."

…Followed by a massive face-fault.

"For such a nimble young man you're not very fast are you?" the elder asked, a bead of sweat rolling down his cheek.

"So how'd he get there so quickly?" the rebel continued, not yet catching on.

"Er..."

"…He flew!" Futashi blurted, deciding that playing along might be a good thing, whether it gave them more time to think or just a memory to later look back and laugh on (assuming they lived that long).

"People can't fly," he pointed out.

"Er, well, _he_ didn't fly himself," the boy fibbed, looking around for support. "He, uh…"

"Was carried!" Everyone paused to lok over at Asuka. Apparently all of the other radicls had been dealt with and restrained by now. "…What?" she indignantly replied to their stares. "You got something better?"

"Carried?" Koeji echoed cautiously. Even though he couldn't be certain, the rebel was beginning to think this might be a bluff.

"Yes, carried!" Futashi quickly agreed. "By…"

"Chickens!", "Ducks!" were the replies. Obaga and Yuiishi exchanged glances. "Chickens and ducks," he confirmed. "Er… mating season," he then offered in means of explaining their unusual combination. Nanari never slapped her forehead because it was not a ladylike thing to do; however she found it very tempting right now.

"He tied them to his waist and they headed south for the winter," Futashi concluded.

"It's June," Koeji noted.

"Er… I mean, summer vacation."

"Hokkaido's north."

"…They took the long way around?" Yuki offered, figuring she had to contribute something (that feeling happens in outlandish conversations).

"Enough!" Koeji barked suddenly. "While your bluff was clever--" Everyone raised an eyebrow at this. "—and you had many logical explanations for the small loopholes--" Obaga coughed. "—I'm afraid you left one fatal flaw in your lie!" Pointing triumphantly at Futashi he declared, "Chickens can't fly! HA!"

The following silence was broken by the sound of Nanari's dustpan connecting with Obaga's skull. "Chickens?" she glared.

"Give me a break de gozaru!"

Judging from the following events, it would seem that line was always to be taken literally.

Koeji, finding that his superiors were right and that talking really was a nasty habit that got in the way of killing things, soon leapt forward into action, raising his blade against the nearest person who happened to be Futashi. Alarmed at the sudden switch of targets, Obaga quickly sprang forward, managing to throw the boy out of the way and turn to block Koeji's attack before it reached. His footing however was off-balance and the force of the swing sent him hurtling backward into a nearby wall which savagely knocked the wind out of him before uncerimoniously depositing him to the floor. 

As the elder lie there, desperately catching his breath, the tip of the sword he'd been using landed a few mere inches from his nose. He stared at it for a moment, wondering what it was doing there when he could clearly feel the hilt still in his… 

Oh. His sword was broken, along with what felt like some of his ribs. Seems he'd gotten his break after all.

"Old man!" Futashi shouted in concern, not liking how the rurouni was lying prone on the floor a little too long. But that last hit had looked really bad…

The last standing radical stepped up to stand over his fallen adversary, watching the samurai struggle just lift himself off the floor. Judging by his heavy breathing and how he kept his head down however, it would seem to old codger was finally down for the count.

"You fought pretty good, Grandpa," he confessed, raising his own sword again. 

The room froze, everyone suddenly realizing that with a broken sword and injury, Obaga would fall to the next strike. …And no one could move to do anything; fear and morbid fascination keeping them in place.

"When I retire like you," Koeji continued, "I hope I'm half as good still." Strange how he didn't sound nearly as idiotic when he was complimenting someone. 

The blade was poised above Koeji's head, ready to deliver a swift execution. Obaga had finally managed to prop himself on one knee, but it was too late.

"No!" Futashi cried, finally coming out of his frozen stupor and reaching for his only weapon, preparing to give this guy the dusting off his life. But he would be too late.

"Futashi! Don't!" Asuka cried, reaching out to hold him back… too late.

Yuiishi realized she should have done something to help, but it was now too late.

"Die!" Koeji roared, bringing his sword down just as Obaga's head snapped up and with a shout the man sprang forward making Koeji realized he'd better counter quick or—

Too late.

-----------

"I'm getting too old for this de gozaru."

Futashi blinked. When once didn't seem enough, he blinked several more times. Then when this didn't seem to help him in comprehending what had happened, he decided to ask.

"What the heck did you just _do_?!" he cried.

Obaga looked at him and grinned haplessly. It was a bit strange seeing him smile so listlessly considering he had to lean on Yuiishi for some support, but Futashi was used to such strange behavior. Still, seeing the swordsman breath so hard and stand so weakly made him truly look his age.

"Just a little technique I learned a long time ago. Haven't used it in ages. I'm really out of practice!" he laughed.

"If anyone just went flying it was him," Asuka said, looking at the prone form of Koeji that laid on the ground a few feet away from where he'd been attacked. "Exactly what kind of technique was that?"

"Don't you know a swordsman never reveals his secrets?"

"Those are magicians."

"Er, well, magicians stole that phrase from swordsmen."

"Yeah right."

Futashi looked at Nuhiro again, trying to recall in his mind what he'd just seen and piece it together with what he knew about swordsmanship himself. As far as he could remember however, was that one minute he'd been running over to help the old man and the next he saw the codger spring to his feet and… what would you call that… a counter-attack? A parry? Koeji's attack had been stopped and then Obaga had taken him out with what was left of his own sword. Pretty impressive considering it was only the hilt!

Shaking his head, Futashi supposed he wouldn't understand it on his own, or at least not right away. Besides, they all had more important things to attend to.

"We need to help my sister!" he shouted, reminding everyone else of the same.

"That's right!" Yuki declared. "She's having her baby now! We need a doctor!"

"We can't just leave these guys here," Asuka remarked, motioning to their collection of unconscious rebels.

"Aroji and his ninja must have reached Nikko-dono by now. We must go and assist Himura-dono."

"Well then let's go!" Futashi exclaimed.

"But we need a doctor!"

"And police!"

"We really should make a plan de gozaru."

"There's no time!"

"You can't just rush in there yourself, Futashi-kun!"

"We need to get help!"

"They won't come in time. We need--"

"ENOUGH!" Everyone froze and turned to the head mistress in surprise. Snapping into her business mannerism, Yuiishi gave the orders. "Yuki-chan, rush to police station and get them down here right away. _I_ will be assisting Nikko-chan in the meantime," she said before the woman could protest. "It's not the first time I've helped bring a child into the world. Stop by the clinic on the way back and pick up the doctor if you must but get the police first. 

"Asuka-chan, go get me some hot water and towels. Giving birth gets messy and we'll need something to clean and wrap the child in after it's born. Get me some clothespins or string too.

"Obaga-san, are you well enough to help Himura-san?"

"I'm afraid I may have broken some important things, but I will offer what help I can."

"Very well. Futashi-kun, I want you to go--"

"I'm staying with oneechan and I'm going to help Himura!"

"Futashi-kun--"

"No, I'm staying! Gramps here is too banged up to help much so if Himura's really gonna need help, I'm gonna be the best chance he's got! So I'm staying and that's final!"

Opening her mouth to protest, Nanari found herself stopped short when Obaga gently squeezed her and looked at the boy with a solomn gaze.

"Futashi-kun, it'll be very important that you help your sister and Himura-dono. If you come with us, you may end up helping and you may not. It will be important for Himura-dono to fight this battle and that may require that no interference be made. If you come, you must promise to help only when I say it is right to. Understand?"

Catching the sincerity and seriousness of his voice, the boy nodded. "I understand."

"Alright then. I suggest we all move quickly then. Time is of the essence."

"Hai!" the group responded. Yuki dashed out to the front door, Asuka into the kitchens, and Futashi led the way to the back. Following after the boy but finding themselves mostly alone, Yuiishi turned to Nuhiro.

"Exactly _where_ did you think you were squeezing back there?" she deadpanned.

Coughing a bit, the rurouni turned to her innocently. "Oro?"

"Are you really that injured?"

"Er, well, I probably could have stood on my own for a while now, Yuiishi-dono, but your kidness and assistance was just too kind and warm to pass—Oro!" he cried as Nanari promotply dropped him. "Hey, I'm injured de gozaru!"

"Please hurry, Obaga-san," the woman said with a gentle and pleasing chide that belied her actions. "I'm afraid that this is no time for a nap." And with that she quickly hurried on her way.

"But I… you… er…" Obaga gave up and soon followed but couldn't quite shake the feeling that he'd just been bested at his own game.

-----------

Murobi Genro had run into a little problem. This was unusual because looking back, he found he hadn't had too many before this.

Clearing the gate had not been a problem, seeing as to how he was a talented enough ninja who was quite good at leaping. Finding Battousai had not been a problem, seeing as to how the swordsman with the cross-shaped scar was waiting for him at the end of the trail through the bamboo trees, his stance on guard. And gathering the courage to confront the legendary hitokiri was certainly not a problem, for Murobi had been preparing for this moment for a long time now. …An entire 6 days to be exact, for that's how long they'd known the Battousai was in town.

No, the problem came with the attacking head-on part, but not because Murobi was scared or ill-prepared. On the contrary, he was still well-equipped and it had already been stated how he had braved himself for this occasion. Rather than such expected difficulties, the problem came in the charging when he found he hit a small snag. 

Literally.

His right leg caught on something that firmly kept it from moving and further. Since his body couldn't very well go on without the foot, it swapped its forward momentum for gravity and waited for the limb to catch up while it rested on the ground. The mouth did not appreciate the mud pie however, and spat it out in distaste along with a startled, "What the?!"

Turning around, he looked back to see what it was that had tripped him up. Upon recognizing it he named it. "Trip wire?"

A shout from the opposite direction got his attention and he turned to see what it was that was shouting what sounded like an improvised attack. Upon seeing it he went to naming that too. "An umbrella coming at my skull at an unsafe speed that's sure to—_Cripes_!" Realizing that naming _this_ particular object was not as harmless a thing as the first, Murobi quickly rolled to the side, avoiding the umbrella drop by a mere 3.8 inches. Springing to his feet, he let fly the shuriken that he'd managed to hold onto despite his undignified fall.

Himura saw the sparks flying toward him, each with a deadly accuracy. He pause for a fraction of a second, wondering how he would escape them. If he'd had his sword, a simple twirl of it could've been enough, but the umbrella was a heavier and clumsier item and probably wouldn't shield him from… 

_Shield. Oh, that makes sense._

With a flick of the wrist and eased movement as if he'd meant to do it all the long, Kenshin opened the umbrella and gave it a quick spin. The moving top did its work and stopped the leatal missiles, deflecting them to the side. Not having expected this counter at all, Murobi was still in a bit of a stupor when Himura retracted the umbrella and rushed forward and delivered a powerful thrust to the ninja's solar plexus that blew the air out of his lungs quite effectively. Stumbling back with a ragged gasp, Genro reached for his alternative weapon since all his shuriken were gone.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Himura warned.

"What, do _this_?" the man in black laughed hoarsely, whipping out a long, gleaming dagger. …Which he promptly lost his grip on when he fell backwards over the second line of trip wire.

Kenshin paused to scratch the back of his head. "No, actually I was talking about stepping back any further de gozaru. They have a back-up wire. My second time here I found it very much like the way you just did."

Murobi did not respond at first. He was trying to calculate in his mind exactly how close his own fallen knife had come to giving him the nickname Lefty. 

Himura returned to his seriousness and addressed his foe once more. However, he returned the politeness to his words that had been missing before. "It's time to end this de gozaru," he stated. "Sessha suggests you surrender yourself to the authorities peacefully before sessha unleashes a true form of terror upon you."

Having been brought back around to the real matter at hand, Murobi's eyes narrowed as he readied himself for quick action. "I'm ready for anything you've got to give me, Battousai," he sneered. Sighing in resign, Himura nodded.

"Very well." The former assassin drew in a concentrating breath and Genro poised his hand so he'd be ready to snatch up his dagger at a moment's notice and parry anything the red haired crossdresser threw at— "STRANGER!!"

Murobi blinked, observing Himura point at him accusingly. "What the--"

(*Splash*)

Murobi blinked again. This time he observed his current state of wetness. "What the--"

"No strange men allowed in the back!"

"Mffmm?" which translated into, "What the--" in the language of Gagged. 

A ninja was trained to be prepared for many things, and ambushes were among them. However, Murobi had to admit that his idea of an ambush consisted of large grown men and not small energetic children. This would not stop him from accomplishing his tasks however. Nothing in the world could deter a ninja from completing their mission once set on doing it. Not Hitokiri Battousai, not hyper-active children, not the incredibly cute little girl standing before him, and certainly not that jar of spiders she carried in her—

Wait, spiders? Why did that seem important? There was something very important Murobi had to remember about spiders. Now what was it again…? Oh yes, that's right!

He had arachnophobia.

"DEAR KAMI SAVE ME!!!" the man screamed. …Well, actually it sounded more like, "MM MFFFM MMFFM MM!!!" but you get the idea. The slight pause in struggle he spent a moment ago pondering this ended up costing him his freedom, and Himura knew by experience that these kids were excellent knot-tying experts. Even so, the former assassin had to admit he was a little surprised to find that the children had subdued a ninja without his help. 

Looking at the scene again, Kenshin decided that "subdued" was not the term so much as was, "broken down into a quivering, squealing mess." Perhaps this method had been _too_ cruel and unusual after all…

"Well, I knew you had had a plan, but even I wouldn't have expected that."

Quickly turning around to the owner of this new voice, Himura soon found himself once again face-to-face with the leader of the rebel faction. "Amatomo Aroji," he greeted unpleasantly. 

"Himura Battousai," was the return. A tense pause passed between them before being broken by a sharp cry.

"WAAAAAAHHHH!!! Get 'em away, get 'em away!!!" Muborbi tearfully pleaded, his gag having fallen off, and squirming and crawling away as fast as a hog-tied ninja could (which was actually pretty fast much to their surprise). A small hoard of children followed him throwing dirt clods, chanting "Torture, torture, torture!" and one trying to give him an up-close and personal exclusive with her jarred pets. The chase continued across the yard and beads of sweat appeared on the heads of remaining men.

"Not a very disciplined ninja, is he?" Kenshin deadpanned. Aroji shrugged.

"He was the best I could find for such a cheap price. Government rebellion doesn't exactly swim with budget benefits, you know."

"Obviously not."

Returning to the plot, Aroji stated, "You must know who I am by now, Battousai, and thus you should also know that I'm only here to rightfully reclaim what is mine."

"As far as I'm concerned you gave up your right to claim Nikko-dono the instant you betrayed her trust in you," Kenshin answered. "No matter what the relation or tie sessha believes that every person has a right to their own happiness de gozaru. And you Amatomo-san, are not Nikko-dono's happiness."

"And I suppose _you_ can help her find her happiness?" the broad man sneered. "You who took it away from her in the first place?"

"…Sessha is unsure he can ever personally provide someone their happiness." A memory of a cold night and one blanket. "However, sessha has vowed to do everything in my power to protect the right to happiness and whatever peace people now possess." Fresh snow and blood. "But now I will accomplish this without killing," he murmured. Then louder, with an undertone of grave determination he proclaimed, "And will keep this promise with my reversed-blade sword!"

Aroji blinked. "You mean _this_ reversed-blade sword?" he asked, holding up Kenshin's sakabatou.

"Yes! And… er… oh yeah." He looked down at the umbrella in his hands. "Er... Is it too late to rephrase that de gozaru ka?"

"Baka!"

"Oro!" Looking past Aroji, the redhead could see Yuiishi, Obaga and Futashi standing in on the bamboo path just behind him. "Obaga-san, is everything--?"

"Don't worry, Himura-dono. The other men have been taken care of and Yuki-dono is on her way to the police station for help."

Aroji frowned slightly. "The police? Now really, was it so necessary to involve others? It now seems that we'll have to make this quick. He tucked the two extra swords he had on hand into his belt and drew his own. "Now, which one of you should go first?" Yuiishi stepped forward, much to everyone's surprise. "Oh? Is it you old woman?"

Himura thought he saw a vein pop out at that one but he couldn't quite tell with the head mistresses' cool and womanly demeanor.

"I am here to assist your wife in her labor," she stated without fear. "If you wish for your child to have a healthy start in the world, I suggest you move aside and let me through."

"My, my, aren't we touchy." Despite his displeasure Aroji allowed her to step through. "No tricks now," he offered as a warning.

"I wouldn't dream of it," was her sharp reply. Reaching the small house, she opened the sliding door and peered in. "Nikko-chan, are you al--"

"WHERE IN THE WORLD HAVE YOU BEEN?!" Nikko screeched, the sheer force of the soundwaves nearly making Yuiishi stumble back into an undignified fall on her rear-end. "IT FEELS LIKE I SWALLOWED A BOBCAT! GET IT OUT NOW!!!"

Smoothing out her hair as calmly as you please, Nanari simply chided, "Don't forget to breath, Dear."

The statements that followed are not suitable for print.

"Sounds like she'll do just fine," Obaga smiled warmly. Everyone stared at him.

Being the first to remember exactly the danger that Nikko was in, Futashi cleanched a fist at Aroji. "You'd better stay away from my sister, Beef Head!"

"Oh?" his brother-in-law smirked. "And what will you choose to do if I don't?"

Checking with Obaga and knowing that now was not the time to help, Futashi glared back. "I choose… I choose…"

"Well?"

Pointing a finger at their last chance of hope, Futashi declared, "I choose _you_, Fem-Lackey!"

"Oro?!" Kenshin responded, an unexplained shimmer running down his spine. Why did the phrase "copyright infringement" keep popping into his head? He didn't even know what that was!

"Heh, a suiting name indeed," Amatomo chuckled, now turning his full attention to Himura, his final decision made. "Well then Battousai, it seems that you shall be the first."

Seeing that it was time to get serious, Himura gripped his umbrella tighter and took a stance. "The first and last de gozaru. I will not let you hurt anyone here."

Another sneer. "Then let's begin."

And so they did.

  


End of chapter eighteen.

  
  


Author's Notes:

_And behold, Gochan did take a season of rest of two weeks. And lo, her Muse did taketh eight. Verily, Gochan did attempt many deeds to recover lost Muse, but the Muse returneth not. And it came to pass that after the course of two months, Gochan sent word to her Muse and that verily did sayeth, "Screw you. I'm gonna write anyway. And I'm naming you Roy." And behold, thus Screwed Muse did answer and say, "Wait, I'm ready to help again! Just don't call me Roy like you threatened!" And lo, the Muse returned and there was much beating, maiming, terrorizing, oh yeah and a bit of writing. And behold, Gochan saw that it was "eh, good enough" and was semi-pleased. ...Roy was not, but he'll learn to deal with it._

And that's pretty much the story of my Writer's Block. -_-;;

Sorry minna! Two months is much too long for an update, ne? But Writer's Block hit me big time and I didn't feel like writing until I was over it. ...Then too much time began passing and I decided to get over my self-critisizing and write anyway. I'm not totally satisfied with the chapter, but I figure I'll be doing a big revision on this one day eventually anyhow, so... *shrugs*

Hope you still liked this chapter. I'm not sure how good I am at action scenes since I've never written one that received feedback. Still, hope I made it a little interesting. (Hey, the kids had to have their fair share of the action!) Quite frankly, Kenshin probably could take some of these guys bare-handed but the sword is his specialty. For a real professional slug-fest, Sano's the one to go to. Unfortunately he's not yet introduced into at this point in the series. Nuts. In any case, the hardest battle to write yet is coming up next chapter! Aroji vs. Kenshin! (It's hard because final battles are always supposed to have something neat about them.) Hope I can pull off a nice enough climax for ya. ^^; I'm kinda worried but we'll see.

Wow, thanks to all the people who informed me on how kimonos are _really_ made. Of course, I hadn't meant for Nikko to be _making_ kimonos; rather, she was hemming, re-fitting, etc. ...Er, but that doesn't work either, does it? ^^; I feel kinda silly now, but I can't say that's something new or that it's bad enough that I'll change that story portion for it. Still, I now know for future reference and I'll keep it in mind. I thank all of you for the information however, and thank you even more for deciding to overlook my mistakes for the sake of fanfiction. You're great!

Lots of guest pics to put up now! Shiari, this fics Official Rabid Fangirl and her friend Ten-chan (both being creators of a real-live Gi of Optical Illusion!) have given me links to more fanart that they have made! Sugoi! You guys are great! Copy and Paste these into your URL minna to see them!

For those of you who said you'd like to see fanart of Kenshin in that kimono from last chapter, here are some pics to satisfy your curiosity!  
es... Here's one more! Some of you asked about Anime Expo, so here's their webpage. www.anime-expo.org

I will be attending this convention which will take place at Anaheim, California on July 3rd-6th, 2003! A group of my friends and I will be raiding the center and if my pals get their way (which undoubtedly they will), we'll be cosplaying it up as various characters from various series! I'll try to have some schedule to the costumes in case anyone who'll be there cares to look for me.

And this rant is WAY TOO LONG! I'm making the chapter look insignificant. ^^; Until next time minna! (Btw, next chapter might take a while too since I'll be mulling over the climax. Apologies in advance!) Whoo! Only two more chapters to go!

  
  



	19. End Game: part 1

  


Disclaimer: I checked my pockets. No Rurouni Kenshin patent. Sorry, don't own 'em.

_Note: This chapter is dedicated to Sunny and Fujifunmum, my rare and wonderful beta-readers._

**A Rurouni's Guide to Idiocy**

Chapter Nineteen

  


There are only so many ways to describe a bad situation and quite frankly this authoress feels she has used up most of them. Well, either that or she simply cannot think of a humorous way to state it. But remembering that comedy is sometimes at its best when in the form of simplicity, she decided to do just that. So listen up people. 

Kenshin. Kimono. Umbrella. Climax. 

I trust you all to know how this is bad. 

… 

No, that was _not_ an indication of this being a lemon chapter! Go read the previous sections if you're still confused, Hentai! Yeesh, where's a scene change when you need one? 

----------- 

"It's not going well is it?" Futashi asked the graying samurai standing next to him. 

Obaga, his attention torn between the developing events and his lingering injuries, answered gravely but honestly, "These things are usually very difficult de gozaru. Moments like this can be full of agony and a pain that comes from within as well as from without." 

The young boy cringed when a cry of said pain filled the air. "It sounds awful," he said with worry. 

The elder nodded. "It probably looks awful too. Can you imagine what it must be like? I mean, having it stick out your--" 

"Ew! I didn't need that mental image, Old Man!" 

"Well I was just saying…" 

"Well don't say anymore! I mean, jeez, that's my sister!" 

"Birth is still a wonderful experience and miracle of life," Obaga said sagely, crossing his arms to add to his wizened effect. It was working well enough until a pillow flew out the door—-correction, _through_ the door-- and knocked him upside the head. This might not've been so bad if it hadn't been one of those wooden ones. 

"Miracle of life my aaaAAAAAAHHH!!!" 

"Nikko-chan, stop getting distracted and concentrate on your breathing! You'll never push effectively if you're out of breath." 

Futashi cast a wary glance at the closed ricepaper door behind him that now sported a small hole. Thankfully he was not at an angle to see in. Shaking his head he turned to the samurai next to him. 

"I think her lungs are working just fine. Not mention her ears, right Old Man?" 

"Ororororororo…" the other replied. 

Both were now standing in front of the small house in the middle of the small clearing, having retreated there to ensure no unwelcome approaches were made on it. Especially not when the battle between Himura and Aroji made such a convenient distraction. 

Speaking of the battle, Futashi couldn't say that it was going badly. However, he also couldn't say it was going very well. While Himura himself remained untouched by Aroji's attacks, there were several close calls evident. The sleeves of the once elegant kimono Himura wore now hung in shreds, along with some of the lower hem. It was clear the former assassin was still having difficulty maneuvering in what was left of the folds of expensive material, as well as counter-attacking with such a feeble weapon as the umbrella. 

On the other hand, Aroji wasn't exactly winning either. Himura had managed to use his speed and duck in several times already, giving the man some shots with his fists, elbows, and feet. Unfortunately, Aroji was much heavier than Himura, and his extra weight absorbed most of the impact so the assaults had little effect. Aroji's sword and skill were also enough to keep the smaller man at a distance, not allowing any time for more damaging techniques. 

It was a close match, even if only due to circumstances that left Himura handicapped. Futashi felt confident that if the red haired young man only had a sword this confrontation would meet a swift end. But Himura's blade was still tucked securely into Aroji's belt, and Aroji was taking extra precaution to make sure it wasn't stolen away. 

"This doesn't seem to be going well either," he mumbled. Turning back to the samurai he asked, "Hey, how come we can't give Fem-Lackey one of the swords the other goons had?" 

Obaga answered, "…Ororororo…" before Futashi knocked the sense back into him with the heel of his foot (don't ask how that works). Then much more sagely Nuhiro replied, "Himura-dono does not desire to pick up a real sword ever again, Futashi-kun. If he did, he would have picked up one before chasing after Aroji himself." 

"But why?" 

"He has no desire to kill de gozaru." 

"But he--" Futashi bit back the comment before he said it too loudly. In a whisper and with a slightly bitter taste he finished, "…He has before." 

Looking a bit saddened, Obaga placed a hand on the boy's shoulder. "It is true that he has slain many people before," he said with a sigh. "But that does not mean he has enjoyed it. While the reasons for Himura-dono's past actions can only be explained by Himura-dono alone, I am certain that he only did so thinking it was for a just cause." 

"Well isn't this a just cause?" Futashi shot back, his eyes still full of confusion. "I mean, this is the bad guy! It's okay to kill the bad guy, right?!" Obaga didn't answer for a while and Futashi became impatient. "Well aren't I right?" he demanded. 

"Some things cannot be explained through words, but only through experience," was the soft response, his voice echoing with wisdom beyond Futashi's comprehension. 

"I haven't the _slightest_ idea as to what that means, Old Man." _Way_ beyond Futashi's comprehension apparently. Obaga deflated. 

"Let me try another approach de gozaru. Even if it were justified in killing bad men, is it okay to make Himura-dono kill after he has sworn not to? What's more, wouldn't Himura-dono at one point fit under your definition of 'bad guys' de gozaru ka?" The boy remained silent. "Life is not as black and white and we would like it to be, Futashi-kun. We live in a world of grays." 

Another moment without words. And then… 

"Wow, that was deep!" Obaga blurted. Futashi watched in disbelief as the elder pulled out a small parchment of paper, ink, and brush. On the paper, several other lines had already been written and next to the last Obaga wrote another. "'World… of… grays…'" he muttered as he wrote. When he finished he cackled to himself. "I am _good_ de gozaru!" 

Slightly annoyed at the inappropriate interruption to his character development, Futashi asked, "What's _that_?" 

"Oro? Oh, this is a list I've started of all the cool things I say de gozaru. I've been forgetting them recently and I don't want to forget in my old age how insightful and wise I am. Hey, I forgot about the 'cleaning house' one." He began scribbling away again, chuckling and praising himself under his breath. 

Futashi groaned. "Just when I think you couldn't get any crazier…" He then paused in thought before adding, "Where exactly were you keeping all that stuff anyway?!" 

----------- 

There are four common events of everyday life that are also considered some of the most dull and boring aspects of it. Listing from the most dull to the least dull, they are as follows: grass growing, paint drying, snail racing (which is actually more popular than most people would think), and water boiling. While Asuka found herself entertaining the least boring of these actions, her lack of patience wouldn't allow her to find an up side to this fact. 

"You'd think for a teahouse we'd have some hot water handy!" she snorted sharply, tapping her foot impatiently, holding some clean towels and blanket, and yarn under one arm. She glared down at the warming water with a look so searing that it was a wonder she wasn't evaporating the liquid just by looking at it. "Come on!" she cried impatiently. "Boil!" 

A single solitary bubble floated to the surface and burst in a tiny, inaudible _pop!_ as an attempt to appease her. She nearly kicked the thing over for the taunt. 

"Come on, there's no time for this! Nikko-chan and her baby need you! This could be a matter of life and death! Are you just going to sit there and take your sweet time to boil or are you going to do something about it?!" 

_…_

"…" 

_…_

"…" 

_...pop!_

"GAH!" 

Realizing she was conversing with a pot of water—-a _stubborn pot_ of water—-she collected herself and turned to look out a nearby window that had the best view of the backyard and gate beyond. Much to both her relief and anxiety, there were no signs that could tell her if things were going well or not. 

"You'd better be okay Nikko-chan," she murmured pensively under her breath. "Otherwise I'll never forgive him. Not Aroji or Himura." 

(*_pop!_*) 

"I didn't ask _you_." 

----------- 

It is a well known fact that all extremely skilled swordsmen (and protagonists) always take stock of their situations in their opening paragraphs; especially when in battle. Himura Kenshin, an extremely skilled swordsman (and coincidentally the protagonist), was no exception to the rule. And at the moment, besides the usual internal lamentation of his attire, the disadvantages of his "weapon," and the casual thought spent on the absurdity of the situation (was that Obaga taking notes on the porch over there?), Kenshin had to say he was doing pretty well. 

Aroji's moves were fairly easy to predict, and his speed wasn't as much of a threat as his strength. The only thing that had kept Himura from barely dodging every strike was the confinement of the kimono's skirt. However, with all the cuts in it, the material was no longer restricting and he found he could move faster and more easily now. As it was, Aroji's attacks were no longer getting through, but this wasn't the biggest problem. His largest obstacle was figuring out how to attack. 

Aroji was a much larger man than Himura. No so much in height, but in bulk. While not in any need of help group sessions for the overweight, Aroji's build was broader than Kenshin's, his muscles being more thick than shapely. This made Kenshin's physical attacks much weaker. Not that he was a champion fist-fighter anyway, but in his current state he wouldn't have minded having that power. The umbrella wasn't strong enough to hold an attack against Himura's best vital areas (like a Ryuu Tsui Sen to the shoulder), and the sharp jabs seemed to have the same effect as a ball being thrown against a stone fortitude. Without his sakabatou, Kenshin found this was becoming a battle determined more on strength than speed. 

Bugger, but sometimes being a shrimp could really bite. 

Despite being a few pint-sizes smaller, the former assassin still firmly believed that skill and use of resource could topple any foe. It just took some serious thinking, serious planning, and serious attitude. Himura was ready to get serious. 

As if on some unannounced signal that the narration was over, Aroji and Himura leapt apart from one another in a simultaneous, temporary retreat. It was a natural break to pause to gather breath while gauging your opponent, but neither man needed rest; just a plan. 

Aroji's was very simple: kill Battousai. Kenshin's was also plain: save the others. While different, they shared a common thought: no matter what the cost. 

"You've done well, Battousai," Aroji commended. "You lived up to my every expectation as the legendary hitokiri." He paused to stare at the delicate pattern on Kenshin's outfit before giving a blunt cough. "Well… _almost_ every expectation anyway." 

For apparent reasons (one obviously being how much that last statement ticked him off), Himura did not return the compliments. "It's coming time we ended this," he said, his voice lower than its usual octave. "I will give you one last chance to surrender peacefully." 

Aroji laughed outright at the challenge. "Do you think I'm going to run away now? When I'm so close to fulfilling my goals?" 

"Leave Nikko-dono and the others alone. I will not permit you to harm anyone here." 

"Heh, you think this is just about her?" he scoffed. "I have much higher ambitions that she just conveniently fits into. The true objective of my clan is to make the creators of this government suffer by sending their ideal era into chaos before killing them all, one by one. Then, when Japan's leaders have been extinguished, I, the head behind the force, will take reign! Japan and all of its power and resources will be mine, and a new Shougunate will be reborn!" 

Aroji's lips broke out into a wide, greedy grin as he let this revelation sink into Kenshin's mind, as well as the minds of the others who had turned to listen in. The pause that followed was one of shock and wonder. 

"Wow," Futashi said at last, he being the best at ending awkward silences. "All that was missing from that villainous speech was the maniacal laughter." 

Obaga nodded. "I feel kinda cheated without it de gozaru." 

Kenshin just blinked back at his opponent. "You want to rule Japan? But you can't even afford a decent ninja!" To emphasize this point, Murobi passed by, rolling on the ground as he tried to kill/squash/remove the spiders covering him (apparently the kids had managed to catch him), his scratchy voice being very effective for screaming like a girl. The young pranksters followed a moment later, clearly enjoying their game while completely oblivious to the events around them. 

Aroji kept a serious air. "This teahouse will serve our purposes, both in becoming a new base for out facilities, and in funding our ambitions. By taking over its residence and business, my men and I will be more than adequately supplied." 

His audience of three blinked once again. 

"Supplied with what de gozaru ka? Shelter and provisions or booze and women?" 

"What men? We wiped them out back inside!" 

"Aren't the police on the way? Sessha is pretty sure they won't just allow you to do this de gozaru." 

Aroji sweat-dropped and growled. "Note to self: work on speech and timing after killing Battousai and fools." 

"In any case," Kenshin interrupted, "it is as I have said. You will not harm anyone here, and I cannot allow you to carry out such evil goals." Holding the bumper shoot before him in an indication that he was ready, Himura leveled eyes with his opponent. "If you refuse to surrender, then come quickly. I don't want to waste any more time on you." 

A wry grin. "And what exactly makes you think you have the right to stop me?" 

Startled by the question, Himura looked up. "What?" 

"What exactly makes you think you have the right to stop me?" he asked again. "Like I said before, you were the one who took away Nikko's happiness in the first place. What right do you have?" 

The redhead scowled. "As sessha has said before, I may not be able to restore her happiness, but I will protect what peace they possess." 

"Will you really be able to?" 

Another glare met another grin. 

"Enough talk," Himura stated firmly. "Let our skills prove our word and decide our rights." 

Amatomo scoffed. "I'd like to see what trick you think you have up your sleeve and see if it can compare to mine." He slid into a stance as well. "What hope do you think you have?" 

"Come and see." 

There was a pause of tension and then… 

…There was some more pausing and tension. Futashi scowled and turned to Obaga. 

"What're they waiting for?" he asked, his impatience evident in his voice. 

"This is an unusual situation de gozaru." 

Futashi eyes Kenshin's kimono and umbrella. "Well I can see _that_." 

"No, not that. Himura-dono is asking for Aroji to start the attack, but Himura-dono's stance is more of an offensive one than defensive. Your brother-in-law notices it too. He's trying to anticipate what Himura's strategy might be." 

Being the son of a samurai, Futashi looked upon the battlefield and understood. "So what happens if Beef Head doesn't attack?" 

Himura suddenly frowned at Aroji. "If you will not come to me, then I will come to you!" And in a blink he was sprinting forward with shocking speed. 

Obaga leaned to Futashi, "Well, that might happen." 

"Oh." 

Finding the Battousai closing in too fast to slip into defense, Aroji kept his aggressive stance and lunged while thrusting his sword forward… right into the open flap of the umbrella. Unable to see his foe, Aroji tried to move the blade so it would slash open the obstruction or luckily strike his opponent. It did neither except help him lose his own grip as Himura shut the umbrella again, capturing Aroji's blade, and twisted both the parasol and sword, ripping the weapon from his hands. Giving the umbrella a quick fling to the side, the sword loosed itself from it and landed behind the ex-hitokiri, putting a lot of distance between it and its former master and leaving Aroji without a weapon in his hand. 

"Yeah! Score one for the Fem-Lackey!" the boy cheered. Obaga gripped the child's shoulder to turn his attention back to the fight. 

"There's still more de gozaru." 

"Huh?" 

Before Aroji could evade, Himura was underneath him, rapidly climbing up the floors with a Ryuu Shou Sen that Himura carried into the air. Turning the umbrella vertical for more support, Himura came down from above with a lighter, but still effective version of an old favorite technique. Then, landing behind him, Himura turned to finish off the most unusually executed combo of his life with a revised Ryuu Kan Sen. Closing in for the final strike, Himura was caught-off guard when Aroji half-blindly swept his arm out and connected a fist with Himura's jaw. The force behind it was powerful enough to knock the redhead back a yard or so, but not enough to knock him down. 

Landing on his feet, Himura sprang forward to continue his attack before Aroji reached Obaga's sword. His opponent still had two more swords attached to his belt, and while Himura had put up a very confident front, he was not sure how long he could last against all— 

That's when Himura noticed that Aroji's hand wasn't reaching for the sword, but for something tucked inside his… 

"Himura-dono, look out!!" 

(*_Crack!_*) 

Blood spurted into the air as the smoke cleared from around the pistol barrel in Aroji's right hand. 

"_Himura!_"   


End of chapter nineteen.

  
  


Author's Notes:

*Gochan walks along, whistling and generally obvious to the world. Suddenly she stops at a poster she sees on the wall. Tearing it down, she reads it aloud.* **_Missing: Gochan, authoress of FF.net. Presumed dead. Please contact reviewers if found._** *looks out at reviewers with a nervous smile and sweatdrop* Er, I guess it has been a while, hasn't it.

Wow guys, I'm really sorry. I don't know what to say. School and work had me really busy for a while, but overall, I'd say it was Writer's Block. Don't get me wrong, I knew WHAT I wanted to write; I just didn't know HOW I wanted to write it. ^^; But believe me, I _have_ been working on this the entire time. I've just never been satisfied, plus I had some low self-esteem for a while. The deal is, I'm ending this fic that I've spent the last year writing soon. With all of the time and effort I've put into it, I'm NOT going to pull something out of my butt just for the sake of an update. I deserve better, and YOU deserve better. I'm still sorry I've been incompetent all the same.

Some of you may notice that this doesn't seem like the entire "final battle" that I said I was going to write. And you'd be correct. Due to lack of update, yet having a spot in my writing that would make a perfect chapter ending anyhow, I decided to cave and split this chapter into two parts. So there are actually still 2 installments left to the fic. The second half of this chapter, and the last (and "epilogue" of sorts, I guess). I know this has been a long wait for something so short, but the second half (which is a third way done) shall be longer, I promise.

Ah, I can already hear Jason M. Lee lecturing me on the existence of firearms in this time period. All I have to say to that is... *falls on knees and begs* Please DO! I actually learn very well from someone correcting my mistakes. And belive me, JML, the information you give me will go into my deep consideration when I eventually do a rewrite of this monster. So thanks in advance! ^_^

Just as a heads-up, the tone actually becomes more serious next chapter. This final battle is turning out not to be such a physical one, as it is a mental one. (...uh, does that count as a spoiler?) But don't worry. Somebody will get theirs in the end.

Again, my endless apologies to you! I had initially hoped to end this fic before Anime Expo (July 3-6), but now I'm hoping I get the next installment out before then! To the people who will be looking for me there, just know that I will probably be cosplaying as an extremely small **Dokugakuji from Saiyuki** (hey, I'm small and it was the only character left, gimmie a break) at some point at the con, and with a large cast of other Saiyuki characters; most of whom are really girls (only in cosplay could you do this). Other than that, I'm working on a shirt that will have "Gochan" on it. ...It'll probably just be some cheap white shirt written on with a black marker, so nothing impressive. *shrugs* I'm just trying to think of something that will make me more noticable to those who might want to find me.

Mega-thanks to Fujifunmum and Sunny for beta-reading this chapter and the next. Sorry to everyone else who may have wanted to, but I just felt most comfortable with these two at the time. Thanks!

I use my bio blurb to post the progress of my fics, so check my page to recieve news! Ja ne!

  
  



	20. End Game: part 1 and a half: spoofs

Disclaimer: I checked my pockets. No Rurouni Kenshin patent. Sorry, don't own 'em. 

_Note: This chapter is dedicated to Genjo Sanzo. Go read her stuff now! _

Further Note: Since some reviews have noted their initial confusion, I'm going to hope this note gets to others before this chapter **really** ticks them off. ^^; This is a **spoof** chapter. Not the real thing. Just... an omake of sorts to entertain you as I pound my brain for the next segment which may now be coming sooner than I thought. Er, until then, take this in good humor, okay? I assume most of you are capable of this since you've taken an interest this far. ...Unless the operative word there was "good." ...Don't kill us please. ^^; 

**A Rurouni's Guide to Idiocy**

Chapter Nineteen and Three Quarters (get it, HP fans?)   


"_Himura!_" Obaga yelled as Kenshin's body flew backwards. 

Futashi looked from the redhead to the Old Man, to his brother-in-law. His eyes finally rested on the small, innocent-looking hole in Kenshin's head and the pool of blood spreading out from behind it. "That... that's not how it's supposed to happen," he whispered as his eyes began to prick with tears. He turned to Aroji. The threatening tears began to course down his cheeks in two hot streams. "THAT'S NOT HOW IT'S SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN!" 

"He's right, de gozaru," Obaga nodded. Calmly, he walked to where Aroji was standing. "See? Right here," he said, pulling out a sheaf of papers. "Chapter 20, End Game: part 2, Scene 1. Kenshin, who is only hit in a minor spot, proceeds to beat the snot out of Aroji." 

"What? Let me see that!" Aroji said. He grabbed the papers from the old warrior. "Blah, blah, part 2... yeah, yeah, yeah... minor spot, beat the snot out of Aroji.... crap. CRAPCRAPCRAPCRAPCRAP!!! Gochan's gonna _kill_ us for this!" 

Nikko stomped out of the small house. "Us? What do you mean 'us?' You're the one who just killed her protagonist!" 

Yuiishi followed Nikko at a more sedate pace. "Now Aroji, it won't be that bad. Just explain to Gochan what happened. I'm sure she'll understand." 

Aroji gaped at the unflappable woman. "Won't be that bad?! Don't you guys remember what happened with Koeji?" The group looked blankly at the fretting radical. 

"Wait, wasn't he that idiot guy who was working for you?" Futashi asked after a moment. 

Aroji's answering giggle was right on the edge of sanity looking over the side wondering exactly how far it was down. "That idiot guy..." he said. "You know, he was supposed to be my second in command, the Houji to my Shishio. But then... then Gochan overheard him wondering--just wondering!--if maybe she'd mixed things up and he was supposed to be the leader... so she turned him into what he is, now!" He shuddered and slumped to the ground. 

Nikko scowled. "It's still your fault. I don't see why we have to get freaked out about it." 

Aroji had begun to rock back and forth. "But you know, you know who Koeji was talking to? And Gochan didn't hear him reply, either, just saw him listening. It was Murobi. You know he was the finest ninja we could find. He had even gotten a call back for a spot in Naruto... then she did that to him. They were just talking... just talking... but I shot the main character. I shot him, and he's dead, and you all were there when I did it. She'll say you all could have stopped me somehow. I've doomed us all!" 

Yuiishi coughed. "Yes, well then, perhaps it will be that bad for all of us. Still, it's not like we can just replace Kenshin. Gochan's going to find out sooner or later." 

It is an unfortunate fact that when the mind is wrapped up in its own miseries, it can often mishear things. In this case it was not so much mishearing Yuiishi, but hearing only what it wanted. 

"Replace him?" Aroji blinked. "Replace him... Nanari, that's brilliant!" 

Yuiishi's eyes got wide. "Amatomo, I was not suggesting..." 

Ignoring her, Aroji jumped to his feet. "Obaga! You and I will hide the body. Futashi, you start cleaning up the blood. Yuiishi, you'll be on recruitment. Nikko, you stall Gochan. Make sure she doesn't get here until we're ready and we've practiced with the new guy a little. Now, we just need to figure out who can take Kenshin's place..." 

Futashi frowned. "But where can we find a femmy redheaded man with enough hair?" 

There was silence for a few minutes while everyone pondered. 

"...What about a small, redheaded woman with a flat enough chest?" Obaga asked. 

----------- 

Blood spurted into the air as the smoke cleared from around the pistol barrel in Aroji's right hand. 

"_Inverse!_" Obaga yelled. "Don't do it! Do you want to kill us all, de gozaru ka?!" But it was too late. 

"Darkness beyond twilight, crimson beyond blood that flows, buried in the flo... ah screw it!! YOU SHOT ME IN THE [CENSORED] ARM!! DRAGON SLAVE!!!" 

----------- 

Years later tales were still told of the explosion at the teahouse. Many theories were presented, each wilder than the last. All that was known for sure was that no one within a one mile radius of the blast survived. Eventually the police gave up the investigation, chalking the event up to an act of God (or at least a fanfic writer with a twisted sense of humor). As for Gochan, Nikko had been successful enough in her delaying tactics that she was out of the blast range. With luck, she will finish the real chapter 20 and replace this spoof chapter her friend wrote sometime before armageddon hits. We hope. 

End

  
  


Author's Notes: 

Hi, everyone! Okay, put down those flamethrowers right now. This isn't Gochan, it's her friend Genjo Sanzo. Gochan still has massive writer's block, but she didn't want to leave you all with nothing. So, I volunteered to write a spoof chapter for her to hopefully keep you all entertained long enough for her to work through her block. Liked it? Great! Didn't like it? Don't go flaming her, it was all my idea. If you really feel the need to flame somebody, my e-mail is itismysolitude@yahoo.com. 

Okay, now for those of you unfamiliar with Slayers, first, go out and watch it, you fools! Have you no idea what you're missing? *ahem* With that out of the way, Lina Inverse is the main character, a short, spunky redhead who everyone makes fun of because she's a bit flat-chested. She also has very destructive magic spells which she tends to use when ticked off, no matter who's in the area. Sorry if you missed the joke. Right, I think that's it. 

P.S. Don't worry, I'm as hooked on this fic as the rest of you, so I won't stop bugging Gochan until she updates. 

P.P.S. Gochan isn't nearly as mean as I made her out to seem in this "chapter." She wouldn't do that to her characters... well, okay, unless it was funny, but that's different. 


End file.
